


Dreams I Could Not Forget

by Kaiseaya



Category: Naruto
Genre: All Senju brothers live, All Uchiha siblings live, Asexual Character, Asexual!Tobirama, At least that's what I keep in mind writing them, Canon-Typical Violence, Demisexual Character, Demisexual!Madara, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, I won't go into deatils on any of that but those will be mentioned and touched upon in the fic, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Multiple Endings, Not sure how obvious that'll end up, Senju Clan worldbuilding, Slow Burn, Uchiha clan worldbuilding, Warring States Period (Naruto), if anything changes I will be sure to update the tags and give a warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:13:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 30,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27629351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaiseaya/pseuds/Kaiseaya
Summary: "He searched the folds of cloth and fished out the note Aya gave him. His curiosity returned, and he looked at the folded paper for a while, trying to guess what it could be. A love note? But the paper seemed tightly covered in writing – she wouldn’t manage to write out so much in the time she was gone to take the box and they only just met that day, he doubted she’d have one prepared. But what else could a nine years old civilian girl give to him, that would make her resort to such secrecy and worried her so?He finally unfolded the note and started reading. His face paled, blood draining out with every line he read."Hisawara Aya has been ill since she was six, going to sleep and not waking for days. No one knows what the cause is, no doctor, civilan or shinobi, can tell what ails her.At least that's what most people believe.She has learned quickly not to correct them.She knows that what she sees in her dreams could do much good, but no one listens to a voice of a child. A child can do nothing with such knowlege. At least not a civilian one.So when she has a chance to contact a shinobi kid, she takes it.(This story will have separate endings for both Madara and Tobirama.)
Relationships: Senju Hashirama & Senju Tobirama, Senju Tobirama & Uchiha Madara, Senju Tobirama/Original Character(s), Senju Tobirama/Original Female Character(s), Uchiha Izuna & Uchiha Madara, Uchiha Madara/Original Character(s), Uchiha Madara/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 41
Kudos: 78





	1. Chapter 1

Madara shifted in his seat, fiddling with the hem of his formal attire. He missed the familiar weight of his armor, the comforting presence of a blade at his hip. He had, of course, enough kunai hidden between the folds of his clothes just in case, but it did nothing to relieve his unease. The entire outfit was uncomfortably stiff, it felt both limiting and exposing, offering no protection and constricting his movements. Yet none of those things were the main reason for his foul mood.

He wasn’t concerned with his safety, not so far into their lands, not with his father there. There were also five other Uchiha warriors accompanying them, all geared in the full combat outfits. It was precisely that which irritated Madara so much: he was already a full-fledged warrior, having gone on missions, and being the only one not dressed for combat irked him no end. It felt insulting, to be treated like a kid, expected to hide or run in case of a fight, when he was more than capable of joining the fray.

He understood his father’s reasoning for that, of course; the Hisawara were, after all, a civilian clan, no matter how close they worked with shinobi. To them, Madara was still a kid, and presenting him like he was expected to fight would not sit well with them. Especially since per the agreement between the clans, they sent chakra talented children for shinobi training to the Uchiha, and it was in his clan’s best interest for Hisawara to continue to do so. Knowing all that, however, did very little to quell his irritation; his sense of duty to the clan being barely enough for him to limit himself to scowling, when in the presence of the hosts at least.

The fact that he had to leave when Myoko was sick did not help his mood at all. While he was eager to learn all there was about leading the clan, his older sister got worse just the night before they left, and Madara would rather spend the day by her side, keeping an eye on her, even if there was not much he could do to help her. She came back from a mission with a weirdly discolored wound and had a fever that came and went for over two weeks no, the clan healers at a loss as to what was the cause of her condition. She was growing weak, sudden dizzy spells and waves of exhaustion keeping her in bed and rising in frequency.

So while his sister was possibly dying, Madara was here, at the Hisawara, to shadow his father as he took care of clan business. They sat in an official looking room, Tajima exchanging pleasantries with a man who looked particularly uncomfortable. Madara raked his brain for his name, he was, after all, essentially acting as the Hisawara Clan Head. From the lessons Madara received and the short briefing his father gave him before they set off, he remembered that the official Clan Head of the Hisawara was in his eighties and becoming too senile to rule, and his only heir – his grandson – was too young and unprepared. The man kept glancing worriedly to a young girl that came with him. Madara wondered what was causing such behavior. The Uchiha were long time allies of the Hisawara and their presence did not warrant that much caution. The man soon settled somewhat, seemingly satisfied that he did not find whatever he was so worried about, and he continued the polite conversation with Tajima.

Madara’s gaze drifted around the room, sliding from the host, to the tastefully arranged art pieces scattered throughout, and came to a stop on the face of the girl sitting slightly behind the man, who he assumed was her father. She looked frail, an aura of exhaustion radiating from her. Her skin was paler in comparison to most Hisawaras he’s seen so far, unhealthily ashen, like she hasn’t been outside in weeks. Like her father, her kimono was the Hisawara light blue. Her hair was put in a simple bun, single yellow chrysanthemum kanzashi decorating it. But what made Madara pause were her pale purple eyes. They unnerved him, especially since she looked straight into his, when even her father avoided Uchiha’s gaze. He would have thought her really trusting and naive, were it not for the expression her eyes held: the kind of world weariness and experience that did not belong on such a young face, let alone a civilian one. They seemed too old; the look she gave him one he only remembered from the faces of some elders and few particularly weathered warriors. There was also something else there, an emotion he couldn’t quite name.

“You must excuse my state, Tajima-sama,” the man said, after another worried glance earned him a slight rise of an eyebrow. “As you are surely aware, my daughter is stricken with a peculiar ailment we do not know the cause of, and she has came back to consciousness only yesterday.”

Madara felt a pang of sympathy for the man, knowing well how it felt, the worry and helplessness that came with not having a clear diagnosis. He had to wonder though, why would he bring her to the meeting. He could not find a good reason that would explain why she was there, when she was clearly still unwell.

“No need to apologize. I can perfectly understand your concern,” Tajima replied.

Madara bristled internally. If his father worried for Myoko as much as that man seemed to fret over his own daughter, then why were they here and not at home? He knew this visit was nothing urgent, a routine check up at best. If both men would rather keep an eye on their daughters, then surely this could be postponed.

He was supposed to learn, observing his father, but so far the only thing he learned was that the man who represented the Hisawara was a chatterbox, going on an on about nothing important. Noburu, as he finally recalled the man’s name, was not of particularly notable linage, having risen in the clan and marrying up into a branch close to the main line. While he was seemingly an anxious and feeble individual, he was not to be underestimated. Madara could recognize that one did not get from basically nothing to such importance by pure accident, and he was eager for the talks to move onto more business oriented topics, not only to escape his own boredom. He was curious to see how Noburu was when not making small talk about some bland painting. Which was why he almost blew up when he was sent off to the gardens with the man’s daughter, as their fathers went to the office to discuss in private.

*****

“Stuck outside with a girl, just great,” Madara spat. “Well, let’s go see the stupid garden then.”

The girl flinched at his harsh tone, hurriedly putting on her shoes as she left the engawa. She looked back at the Uchiha boy, his scowl seemingly deepening, if that was even possible. The expression have not left his face the entire time she seen him, and she was a bit intimidated to be honest. His eye were such deep brown they seemed completely black, even in the bright sun. She made her way to a bench near the pond, trying to escape the heavy air of displeasure that surrounded him, but he followed right after her, though he did not sit down when she did. Instead, he stood to the side and slightly behind her, eyes flicking about like he expected someone to attack them at any moment. He would have welcomed it even, she guessed, to escape the awkward atmosphere that settled around them. She certainly would. She would have thought him silly for taking a role of a guard, have she not seen enough shinobi children to know how dangerous even someone as young as him could be.

“Why were you even in the meeting if you’re sick?” he finally asked, eyes focused on the bushes on the other side of the pond.

“My name is Aya, nice to meet you too” she replied quietly.

His eyes widened, his expression turning sheepish, as he realized his lack of manners.

“Sorry. I’m Madara” he said. Still, annoyance and curiosity pushed him to prod, societal niceties ignored once more. “So, why exactly were you at the meeting if you’re still sick enough to make your father worry like this?”

“I’m not sick,” she said with a huff. “At least not in the way you think. My ailment makes it so that I sometimes sleep for days, but once I’m awake I’m fine, really. And I was at the meeting because I specifically asked my father to bring me with him.”

“You asked? Why would you want to sit through that boring thing?” Madara said, finally turning to her to give her an incredulous look.

“Well, I suppose it for you it would be quite boring. But for me…” She hung her head, wringing her fingers in her lap, as she explained. “Because of my condition, I’m not really allowed outside, you know. I just… I just didn’t want to miss the opportunity to meet someone new, I guess.”

He realized what was the unnamed emotion he saw in her eyes earlier. She was lonely, incredibly so it seemed, as he did not recall Noburu having any other children, and seeing how preoccupied Tajima was with clan matters, her father was undoubtedly busy as well. He felt bad for how he acted, taking his displeasure with the situation on her.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” he said.

“I apologize as well,” she replied. “You got stuck here instead of listening to the meeting because I’m here. You seemed eager to go with your father.”

Madara looked at her dejected expression.

“Don’t worry about that,” he said quickly. “It’s not like my father won’t take me with him next time he visits. I’ll get plenty of chances to grow bored with it.”

That earned him a small smile form her, and he smiled back, letting the silence fall once again, this time much more comfortable one.

While the original lesson he was supposed to get here was no longer  happening , it wasn’t that he couldn’t learn anything from the visit. Even if the Uchiha rarely interacted with civilians, and Madara did not expect to have to deal with nobles much, it did not mean he could skip learning  about that . He spent a good portion of the wait  analyzing the garden and the house, thinking up scenarios and planning out how he would  tackle both protecting and sneaking into the estate. He was in the middle of realizing how frighteningly easy it would be for him to enter one  o f the upper floor bedrooms unnoticed, when she spoke again:

“So, how do you like our garden?”

“It’s awful,” he said immediately.

She blinked in surprise. That was definitely not what she expected to hear.

“Leaves too much places to hide in and makes it hard to secure the house properly,” Madara added.

“That’s... that’s not really what I was asking about.”

It was Madara’s turn to blink at her. He felt his ears heat up when he realized what  exactly he did. By this point he have not only been rude to his host, but missed the point by a mile and straight up insulted the place to her face instead. They fell quiet again. Madara took to watching the garden once more, this time making sure to take the view in. While his first impression of it was that it was a defensible nightmare, with plenty of spots for the enemy to slip in undetected and move around unseen, in his second look over the place he took the time to notice and appreciate the tasteful  arrangement of it. Madara took the rare opportunity to admire the place, since nothing like this would ever be created back at the compound. As much of a headache it was from a security standpoint, he had to admit it was a very pretty place, and the spot Aya chose seemed especially nice.

“It’s pretty,” he said finally. “The garden, I mean. I like the.. the plants. And stuff.”

Stuff.  He actually said that. _ ‘ _ _ I _ _ am,’ _ Madara  realized , ‘ _ actually horrible at making small talk.’ _ During the earlier  conversation , his father, who was by no means a chatty person, made it look so easy and natural. He remained eloquent; not awkward  at all , unlike whatever sorry attempt Madara just made. He  instantly regretted not paying closer attention to how his father spoke. Something to remember for the next visit, he supposed. He was suddenly very glad the Uchiha did not take many bodyguard missions and that those  sporadic ones they did were usually assigned to the same few shinobi. If he ever ended up on one, and he suspected his father will assign him at least once, he really hoped his employer would not insist on talking to him. Or that he’ll at least be with someone better at talking than him.

He really needed to work on that as soon as possible.

The girl looked like she was suppressing giggles. Any traces of intimidation she felt disappeared the instant she realized how incredibly awkward he was trying to hold a polite conversation. She had no doubt he could easily kill any of the adults she knew, and yet here he was, failing at basic pleasantries. Seeing his expression of growing unease, she decided to spare him from further embarrassment. 

“Earlier you said it would be easy to sneak around here. So, how would you go about doing that?”

As he began explaining the pros and cons of each path, he relaxed, infinitely more at ease discussing breaking into places than garden arrangements. He found himself enjoying their talk; she asked some very good questions, ones that forced him to take a moment to consider an answer to. The rest of time waiting for their fathers to finish in the office passed fairly quickly, and before he knew it they were called back inside.

*****

Madara glanced at his father. Although Tajima’s face was as impassive as ever, he knew his father well enough to see the slight ease in his posture, a clear indication that the talks went to his satisfaction.

“Ah! One more thing, before you leave,” Noburu said.

Tajima tensed ever so slightly, clearly not expecting that. Aya, on the other hand, perked up, strange gleam in her eyes.

“I’ll go fetch it,” she said, excusing herself with a quick bow. Her father cast her a worried glance but didn’t stop her. Aya left the room and returned shortly with an ornate, lacquered box. She came up to Madara. Noburu turned to him as well and said:

“Please accept our gift, I hope you’ll find it of use.”

Madara took a second to react, a bit confused. He hesitated for a second, wondering if he should accept the box. There was no reason for Noburu to gift him anything – it wasn’t close to any celebrations, nor was this visit important enough and the Hisawara didn’t do anything that would require placating the Uchiha as far as Madara knew. Tajima didn’t seem surprised though, so perhaps Madara was missing some piece of information here. He wondered if Tajima was planning to quiz Madara on it afterwards.

Aya bowed, extending the gift towards Madara. With a subtle glance to his father to confirm he wasn’t about to make a mistake, he reached out to take it from her.

He was glad that his face was hidden from view, as he did not manage to hide his surprise when his fingers met paper. She was holding a note, obscured by the gift, and he quickly adjusted his grasp to secure it there when she let go. Their eyes met when they were straightening their backs, and he saw a flicker of worry in her gaze. He wondered what the note could be, that made her hide it like this and caused her to worry. His curiosity was quickly directed away from it and towards the box instead, as Noburu prompted him to open the gift.

Inside the box was falconry equipment: thick, long gloves, various jesses, hoods, lashes and bells, all high quality from the looks of it.

“I’ve heard you’ve become quite interested in falconry, Tajima has praised your skill,” Noburu said.

Madara’s face brightened at the compliment. He has only recently started training his first bird and was quite proud of his work.

“Thank you for your generosity” he said with a bow of his head. As he closed the box, he used the cover of that movement to slide the note inside his sleeve.

*****

The door to the room opened as soon as the Uchiha delegation left, and Kaori, Aya’s mother came in. She looked little like her child, her hair lighter and features sharper than Aya’s, but they shared the same light purple eyes that Noburu adored so much.

Aya’s father lit up, as he always did when Kaori deigned to leave her work in the greenhouse, where she hid for most of her day. Kaori’s eyes remained cold, even as she smiled back.

“Why did you bring Aya to this meeting, husband?” she asked, looking over her daughter with genuine worry. “You know she mustn’t overexert herself!”

Aya felt drained as the adrenaline of the meeting was no longer holding her up, and slumped in her seat as if to confirm her mother's words.

“She asked me to, my love. How could I possibly refuse anything my daughter asks of me?” Noburu answered, placing a gentle hand on Aya’s shoulder.

“Ichika! Take Aya upstairs this instant!”Kaori ordered. “And make sure she rests. With how fragile her health is…”

Ichika was from one of the lower branches of the Hisawara clan, staying in Noburu’s house to receive proper education and working as Aya’s caretaker in return. She was quite a few years older, approaching her 15th birthday soon, and treated the young lady more like a younger sister rather than her mistress, but no one in the house minded it much. Noburu was happy to see the older girl keep his daughter company, as Kaori could not give her siblings to play with.

Ichika picked Aya up. Up until recently, Aya would protest that, insisting that she was fine to remain downstairs or at least walk on her own, but as time passed, she learned that her objections would be ignored, so she simply let her maid carry her upstairs.

*****

Having her futon rolled out for her so early earned a resigned sigh from Aya. While mentally drained from what she did earlier, now that she was in her own room she felt energized again, and the prospect of having to lay in bed annoyed her.

“You know you have to rest, Aya-chan,” Ichika chastised. “Your parents worry. I’m worry too, you know?”

Aya simply pouted, sitting cross-legged on her bedding. She was allowing herself to act as much as a bratty child as she could get away with, knowing that while Ichika adhered to Aya’s parents’ orders, she always tried to wriggle out some freedom for the younger girl.

“How about this: you stay nicely here and rest and I’ll sneak you something out of the greenhouse? And then I’ll tell you what I heard when I was in town this morning,” the older girl said with a wink. She laughed at the instant nod she got in response. “Alright! I’ll be right back, Aya-chan!”

Aya couldn’t hold back a smile of excitement. She knew Ichika wasn’t at fault here and couldn’t stay mad at her for long.

Just as promised, Ichika came back shortly, carrying a bouquet of budding flowers.

“So? Which you you think it’ll be this time?” Ichika asked.

It was a game of sorts for the two, Aya trying to predict which of two colors the purplish buds would bloom into. Forget-me-nots were symbol of the Hisawara and the main plant being grown in their greenhouses.

“Hmm…I’m guessing,” Aya said, leaning closer to the vase, “I don’t know!”

“Which one do you like best?”

“Pink! Or blue! No, pink. Blue. Ah, I don’t know, they are both so pretty!” Aya whined. “What about you, Ichika-nee? What is your favorite?”

“My favorite?” Ichika leaned in. “Would have to be you!” she said, poking the girl in the nose.

Aya scrunched up her face, giggling.

*****

The way home thankfully passed quick for Madara. As they set off, his thoughts instantly went to Myoko. While he enjoyed this little trip, he was eager to get back to his siblings.

Once home, he was glad to finally ditch the official clothes and change into his usual attire. As soon as he cleaned up a bit, he went straight to Myoko. She was in her room, sitting on the futon, as sick as when he left.

“How are you feeling, Nee-san?” Madara asked, once he settled comfortably on the floor next to her.

“Horrible. Like someone had stuffed my lungs full,” Myoko gave him a tired smile, “and my throat hurts sooo bad, you don’t even know.”

His heart clenched at the sight of his usually energetic older sister looking so dull and exhausted. He felt useless, knowing there was nothing he could do to help.

“So, heard you went to the Hisawaras with father today,” she said.

“Hn. If I’ll never have to make polite conversation again, it will be too soon.”

She chuckled.

“That bad, huh?”

“Ugh, don’t even remind me,” Madara groaned. “She asked me what I think of the garden and I insulted it’s defenses.”

“You – you actually said that?” she was shaking with held back laughter. “Madara that’s awful!”

His cheeks turned red, but seeing her laugh at his horrible social skills eased some of the pressure in his chest.

“Wait, you said – what ‘she’?” Myoko asked, once she could catch her breath again.

“Ah. Noburu’s daughter, Aya, was there too.”

“Oh, I see,” Myoko wiggled her eyebrows at him. “And? How is she?”

He glared at his sister. She just laughed.

“Wait, wasn’t she supposed to come here? A while back, I heard father say she had a decent enough amount of chakra to consider training her.”

“She was?” Madara was surprised. “Didn’t know that. But I guess it was dropped when she got sick. Apparently she started randomly collapsing, staying unconscious for days.”

“Not really a shinobi material.”

“No, guess not.”

‘ _So that what the gift was for?’_ Madara wondered. It would make sense that Noburu would try to make it up to the Uchiha for not giving Aya over for training. Even if her health issues were not anyone's fault, it was appropriate to make up for it in some way.

*****

It was already quite late when he was preparing to go sleep, far later than he usually would. He was about to lay down, when he noticed he didn’t give his formal attire to be cleaned. He picked the bundle up and paused as he felt something crinkle. He searched the folds of cloth and fished out the note Aya gave him. His curiosity returned, and he looked at the folded paper for a while, trying to guess what it could be. A love note? But the paper seemed tightly covered in writing – she wouldn’t manage to write out so much in the time she was gone to take the box and they only just met that day, he doubted she’d have one prepared. But what else could a nine years old civilian girl give to him, that would make her resort to such secrecy and worried her so?

He finally unfolded the note and started reading. His face paled, blood draining out with every line he read. The note described, in scarily accurate detail, his sister’s room and her death – she was supposedly to suffocate in the night, unable to call for help as her throat swelled and constricted. Madara felt dread flash down his spine.

The note couldn’t be true. It couldn’t. No one could know such a thing. It must have been a cruel joke. Why would Aya give it to him? Did she write it? Or did someone make her give it to him? How could the author know his sister’s room so well?

His thoughts spiraled, worry, shock, and outrage at the note’s author mixing together.

In the end, the worry won. He bolted to his sister’s room. She was fine. The note was not true. She was sleeping well. When he checks on her the note will turn out to be just a sick joke.

It wasn’t.

When he slid the door to Myoko’s room open he found his sister halfway off her futon, desperately grasping at her throat. He rushed to her side, yelling for help as he tried to get her to breathe in. He couldn’t hear his own voice through the ringing in his ears, panic flooding his mind. He didn’t notice when other people entered the room, not until he was physically dragged away by his father, as the clan healer came in. Madara struggled in Tajima’s hold, wanting to be as close to Myoko as possible, even if he knew he would just be in the way. Tajima stood still, face unreadable, but the bruising grip he had on his son betrayed his own worry.

Not that Madara noticed any of that. His eyes were glued to the scene before him, Myoko’s face growing red as she still wasn’t drawing in air, her eyes full of panic and bloodshot, and Madara had to do something, anything; what was the medic even doing, why wasn't it helping yet?

Every second his sister was cut off from oxygen dragged on, Madara trashing in his father’s grasp, despair clawing at his chest.

He needed his sister to breathe, so she could keep laughing at his horrible social skills, so she could force him to listen to clan gossip for hours and Madara swore he will never complain about it ever again, he’ll listen to all the latest romance drama, and aunt Kaida’s marriage issues, and what ribbon his cousin got and–

Myoko gulped in air and Madara felt all his breath leave him, making him slack in Tajima’s arms. Madara breathed in sync with his sister, each consecutive inhale bringing him a bit of his calm back, each exhale taking a bit of his panic away.

*****

Madara didn’t relax until long after his sister started breathing normally. He dragged his futon to her room, intent on making sure that would not repeat. He was soon joined by the twins, Togakushi and Kurohime curling up on either side of their sister, followed shortly after with the little form of Izuna, who sandwiched himself between Madara and Kurohime. They all fell asleep, save for Madara, who laid awake, head swirling with thoughts of what could have happened. The images his mind was conjuring filled him with anxiety and he forced his thoughts away from that. Instead, he focused on the note. It was accurate – frighteningly so. The details of the room were what clued him as to who the note was referring to, since aside from saying it was a young girl, there was no other physical description. The note said how after he left his sister’s room she would try to sleep, only for her breathing to grow more and more difficult, until she was unable to speak, and how she would try to reach the door to call for help, only for her throat to constrict so much she suffocates. And she almost did.

Who could have  known all that ? Why did Aya  give it to him? Why did she keep it hidden?

He had plenty of questions and no answers. He needed to do something about it.

He just didn’t know what.

*****

Sometime before the dawn, Tajima peeked into the room, to find all his children piled on two futons, a bleary eyed Madara squished under the combined weight of his three younger siblings. Tajima smiled briefly, before the events of the night brought a frown to his face.

“Madara.”

The boy’s gaze focused, all signs of sleep gone in an instant. For a moment the boy wanted to to tell his father about the note, but he saw Tajima has donned the full battle attire. He didn’t need a distraction before fighting, and the information could be passed after he got back.

“Keep an eye on your siblings,” Tajima ordered.

Madara nodded, arms tightening protectively around the twins.

Tajima hated having to head for battle so soon, the familiar unease of leaving his children stronger that day, but he also trusted his oldest son to keep his siblings safe, should Tajima not return.

*****

The rest of the day went pretty normal for Madara: he went to check up on his birds and got to use his new equipment, he trained with his siblings, and then some on his own, in between lessons with one of the elders. Tajima returned in the late afternoon and Madara had intended to talk to him, but was sent him off; Tajima was calling a meeting with the other Uchiha shinobi.

Madara would have felt insulted, being sent off from what was clearly a war council, but his mind was too occupied with the note. He spent another night tossing as turning, halfheartedly hoping Tajima would get back from the meeting early enough to talk, but he knew that those usually ran long into the night. When he woke up for the third time that night and noted the approaching dawn, his patience was at its limit. Exhausted after two almost sleepless nights, Madara headed straight to Tajima, intent on telling him, even if it required dragging his father out of bed.

His plan fell apart the moment he met one of the clan women, who kindly informed him that Tajima left again, soon after the meeting concluded.

*****

Later, Madara would admit to himself that his decision was a mix of irritation, exhaustion and worry, his mind too tired to properly think it through.

He knew he could get to the Hisawara lands in 3 hours, 2 if he really pushed it, and that nobody would be looking for him until his classes in the afternoon, leaving him plenty of time to run there and back.

With his mind set, he grabbed a few things from his room and left, full speed, towards the Hisawara estate. He needed answers and he needed them now; the more rational part of his brain too asleep to question his plan.

He arrived at his destination about 2,5 hours later. He quickly scaled the outer wall of the property and made his way through the garden, momentarily glad for its arrangement. He had a shred of decency to feel bad, breaking into his allied clan’s house, but he was too far in to stop sneaking now. When he analyzed the house and garden for possible entrance routes he definitely did not expect to use them himself, but it did save him time finding his way around. When he said the garden was horrible form a defense standpoint he really meant that. Sneaking up all the way to the house was almost insultingly easy.

Madara made his way up the wall of the house and stopped, realizing he had no idea which of the rooms on the upper floor belonged to Aya. He _really_ didn’t think this through. He also needed to decide on something fast, because he was standing on the outside wall and somebody was bound to notice him sooner or later.

So he did the smart thing and jumped in through the closest window.

Instantly crashing into Aya, almost knocking her over. Only his quick reflexes saved them both from falling to the floor. His hand shoot out to grasp her shoulders and he used chakra to stick to the floor, leaving them in an awkward lean. She opened her mouth and his hand shot up to cover it before she made any noise. They stayed that way for a moment, watching a small flower vase he almost knocked over wobble dangerously, few pink flowers falling off the stems.

“Stay quiet,” he ordered. He glanced over at the door and relaxed a bit when no one came in. He slowly took his hand away from her mouth, setting it back on her shoulder.

“Who gave you that note?” he asked in a hushed tone.

She looked at him, puzzled by his question. He felt her tense under his palms.

“The note. The one you gave me with the gift? Who gave that to you?”

“Oh! Is she alright?” she asked.

Madara blinked.

“What? Who?”

“The girl that was suffocating. Did you manage to save her?” She cast him a hopeful look.

“Myoko? She’s fine,” he answered, brows furrowed in confusion.

Aya relaxed in his grip, relief flooding her gaze, smiling ever so slightly. Madara eased his hold and continued his questioning:

“Who told you to give the note to me?”

The relief was gone in an instant, and she gave him a panicked look again. He squeezed her shoulders, serious expression on his face.

“I need to know where you got that note Aya.”

“I... um” She turned her head away from him, avoiding his gaze. “Promise you won’t tell anyone.”

He frowned.

“I can’t do that. This is something my father will need to know.”

She looked down, biting her lip, hesitating for a moment.

“Just... at least listen to my explanation first, please. And could you let me stand normally?”

He let go of her shoulders and immediately had to grab her again, since she was still awkwardly tilted and lost her balance the moment he stopped holding her up. Once they were both standing normally again, he hid his fluster and went back to the conversation.

“So. The note. Who gave it to you.”

“No one did,” she said. “I wrote it.”

He raised his eyebrow at her.

“So who told you to do that? How did you they know all that?”

“Look, I... I have those dreams, sometimes. They are like visions or something and I… I see things that are going to happen.”

He gave her an incredulous look.

“You saw it yourself, didn’t you?” She gave him a bold look. “That’s why you’re here, right? I foresaw that girl suff–”

“Myoko. My older sister.”

“That was your sister?” She looked genuinely surprised at that.

“You didn’t know? Didn’t you predict that?” He squinted at her in suspicion.

She shook her head.

“I could only see that she was an Uchiha, so when I heard you were visiting... I couldn’t not warn you somehow.”

“Why didn’t you just tell my father then, or me when we were in the garden?”

“Would you have believed that?”

“No. Probably not. At least not until it came true.”

“Right.”

“But father will believe me, if I tell him now.”

“Don’t!”

“Shh, Aya, be quiet.” Madara went to block her mouth once more, but she moved back. He looked at the door for a few tense moments, hand hanging in the air in front of Aya’s face.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “But please, don’t tell anyone. If your father finds out he’ll insist I go with you to the Uchiha compound.”

“Yeah, so? You’ll be safe there and we’ll get the information as soon as you have one of those visions, so it’s prefect,” he said, brow scrunched in confusion.

“I don’t want to leave my family!” she shout-whispered. She looked truly panicked now.

“Aya, this... ability of yours could help us so much, I can’t jus–”

“I know, I know! And I will help you, I promise, I will. Just… don’t make me leave, at least not yet. At least a few more years, please.”

She looked him straight in the eyes, her own gaze full of fear. Madara was torn, his duty to the clan never feeling so heavy.

Somebody knocked at the door. The pair shared a panicked look and Madara scrambled out the window.

*****

He sneaked out of the estate grounds and headed back to the Uchiha compound.

On the journey home he thought the issue over. He still couldn’t quite believe she could predict the future, but the accuracy of the note was undeniable proof that she could. There was nothing else that he could think of that would explain it.

Then there was the issue of whether he would tell anyone or not.

The dutiful part of him urged him to inform father immediately. An ability like that was bound to give the Uchiha an edge they needed to break the standstill in the war with the Senju.

But the protective brother part of him resented the idea. Aya was right to fear that Tajima would immediately take her away to the Uchiha compound if he knew. Madara couldn’t imagine himself being taken away from his siblings, seeing them maybe once or twice a year. He hated the thought of Aya, lonely as she already was, being forced to leave what few people she knew.

He still couldn’t decide what he would do when he reached his house, coming face to face with Tajima. Madara opened his mouth, intent on telling his father right then and there, and immediately hesitated. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. In his mind, he saw Aya’s eyes when she begged him not to tell, for once looking as young as she actually was. He did owe her for saving Myoko’s life. She knew he would ask her about the note and inform Tajima about it. He would have, had the circumstances been different. And yet, she did it.

“Welcome home father,” Madara said, and headed back to his room, his mind at peace with the decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fanfic, so I'm still figuring how how Ao3 works, feel free to help me out if you notice something wrong.  
> I'm open to constructive criticism!  
> You can find me on Tumblr @Kaiseaya too.  
> Notes for this chapter:  
> I read up a bit about kimonos and hair ornaments for Aya’s outfit:  
> Kanzashi is a type of hair ornament  
> Yellow overall symbolizes sincerity, so I chose it for her kanzashi  
> Chrysanthemum kanzashi – kanzashi have seasonal rules and this one is for October  
> So do kimono, but here she’s wearing her clan colors(still light blue is appropriate for autumn)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This and the next chapter were supposed to be one, since I really wanted to get to Tobirama and Aya meeting, but I realized it would be twice the length of the first chapter, so I'll post them separately while I work on chapter 4.  
> I have revised my plans for later chapters and after some thinking, mostly the implications of Aya’s powers, I made up my mind about some elements I will touch on in this fic, so I added new tags to reflect that. Make sure to check them just in case it’s something you’d rather avoid.

Tobirama hated being sick. It was very unfortunate then, that he was the most sickly one out of all his siblings. Hashirama never got sick, despite how reckless he could be with his health; Kawarama and Itama rarely fell ill and bounced back in a day or two. Tobirama, on the other hand, got sick easily and took days to recover, so he was usually extremely careful to avoid it in the first place. Not this time. He knew he shouldn’t have pushed himself so much, but he was so close to getting that new water jutsu right. He continued to train into the night, despite the fact that he was completely soaked from his previous attempts.

Now he was bedridden with a fever, hot, sweaty and utterly, utterly bored. His eyes were too watery and too warm, making reading impossible, even if his mind hadn't been so sluggish, and he was too uncomfortable to fall asleep. He was loosing precious study time and he had no one but himself to blame.

It certainly didn’t help that his brothers have decided to appoint themselves as his caretakers. If Butsuma were to find out, he’d undoubtedly scold them for wasting their time, coming all at once just to watch Tobirama sleep while they could be training, and Tobirama agreed with him on that one, although not necessarily for the same reasons. While Tobirama appreciated his brothers’ concern, their attempts to help him did more harm than good and he wished they’d just leave him be.

Hashirama managed to spill the cold water he brought for the compress all over Tobirama, forcing him to leave the warmth of the bed, as his brothers flailed trying to help. Hashirama, in his hurry to mop the floor, grabbed Tobirama’s spare shirt as a rug, wetting the only other comfortable sleep clothes Tobirama had. Itama gathered the futon to hang it to dry outside, but he tired to carry it all at once and couldn’t see where he was going. He missed the edge of the engawa and fell over, dropping the bedding into the dirt. Kawarama rushed to get Tobirama into a bath, and almost drowned his brother in it, not to mention that the jutsu he used to heat it up made the water almost boil.

Tobirama used up last of his energy to force all three of them out of the room and drag Itama’s futon to the side the floor was not wet. He all but collapsed into the bed, exhausted form all the “care” his brothers inflicted on him. His skin was irritated from the scalding bath he was forced into, all red and sensitive and the only dry clothes he had were uncomfortably scratchy even in normal circumstances. Now they felt like torture and he was half tempted to just take them all off, propriety be damned, but he couldn’t muster enough energy to do even that. He shifted in the bed for hours, trying to find a position that would allow him to rest comfortably, to no avail.

He was bored out of his mind and the only thing he could do was lay there, eyes closed, until he felt good enough to attempt infusing chakra to sense. It was almost morning when he finally could work on it, grateful for something to do to kill time. He could feel his brothers piled on the other two dry futons, their chakras familiar and comforting like few other things were for Tobirama. He cast his senses outward, finding father already up and about in the house, then Touka, a few houses over, sleeping, the guards on the borders of the compound, and beyond that the regular patrols. He focused, reaching to the outer limit of his range, searching for anyone.

There, on the very edge of his senses, was a cluster of signatures, what he belatedly realized was probably a group of Uchiha. He picked the strongest one among them and followed it with his senses, trying to get a clearer idea of that particular shinobi’s movements. He did that until the group got too far, but he made sure to try to remember the signatures for later.

He continued throughout the day, switching between exercises: stretching to the limits of his range, to trying to pinpoint specific people or determining what they were doing, to reading into his brothers’ chakras to tell if they were speaking truth when he could.

Even after he got better, the habit remained; every morning and evening he’d sit and meditate deeply, focusing solely on his sensing. He found it calming – knowing where everyone was and how they were, especially when he was the one to stay behind as his brothers went on missions. He needed to be able to keep tabs on them when they went away, so he trained especially hard, but while his range was already impressive he still needed to stay still and close his eyes.

By the age of eight, when still and undisturbed, he was able to reach past the edges of the Uchiha territory, deep enough to feel the patrolling groups move along the borders and sometimes he felt what he thought might be the Uchiha compound. One of the signatures he remembered from when he was sick, it was strong enough that he could easily focus on it even from such distance. As his limit increased, he was able to determine that person's morning routine: they would go to the edges to the compound and interact with a few faint signatures, that after some comparing he realized to be birds – most likely messenger ones – and then they went to train, often joined by other, very similar signatures. Close family, most likely, although with a clan as protective of their bloodline as Uchiha it was hard to tell normally, let alone at such distance. It took him some time to even realize that the chakra he has followed for so long, while quite strong, was unrefined compared to the that of other adults – his target was still young. Sometimes the person would set off with others on patrol around the Uchiha lands, or beyond, most likely on missions.

But that day the signature broke the pattern, leaving the Uchiha compound alone. Tobirama settled himself in meditation, focusing on the signature to stretch his range to it’s absolute limits. He was curious, as to what a young Uchiha was doing alone so far away from his compound. Were they stupid enough not to realize how dangerous that was? Or were they so sure of their own skill? They seemed to move towards the Hisawara, who while allied with the Uchiha, were a civilian clan and their lands weren’t as well patrolled as that of shinobi clan; encountering an enemy was not so improbable. He needed to know where they were going and why.

He managed to follow the signature some way into the Hisawara lands before it got too far for him to sense. Disappointed, he went back to his usual training, though he kept looking in case the signature returned.

*****

Madara couldn’t visit Aya as often as he would like, and had no way to know if she’d have a new vision to share. So, he decided to put Noburu’s gift to good use. Before long he had a hawk that he deemed ready.

The sun has barely started to rise when he arrived at Aya’s house to show her how to handle the bird, and leave her his old falconry gloves to use. He has been working on this for months now, so he felt incredibly proud when he finally could introduce Aya to the hawk he trained to carry messages between them.

“This is Shiori,” Madara introduced, petting the hawk gently. “I’ll send her over every morning, unless I’ll be able to come myself. So if you don’t have a vision, just send her back anyway.”

Aya eyed the bird with caution. She kept her full attention on it, as she reluctantly put on the gloves. She was casting him worried glances, but Madara was too caught up in his enthusiasm to share his passion to notice.

“Hold out your hand, like this,” he said, guiding her arm into correct position. “Brace yourself, hawks weight a bit, so try to keep your arm steady.”

“Do I really have to? Can’t it like, land on the windowsill or something?” She tried to withdraw her arm, but Madara's grip on her elbow stopped her.

“Not if you want to keep anyone from noticing. Those talons would leave marks on the wood.”

‘ _So it’s much better if they do it to my arm, got it,’_ she thought. Her face expression must have betrayed her and this time Madara saw it, because he gave her arm an encouraging squeeze and shot her a smile, before he gently moved the hawk over to her forearm. He kept supporting her arm, letting her get used to the weight, slowly removing his hand as she adjusted. She stood there awkwardly for a moment. Madara smiled at her, and his obvious happiness did help her calm down a bit.

“Alright, now you have to get used to it landing from air.”

Since they didn’t want anyone finding out about the messages, the hawk would land on the tree that grew next to her window and only come to her when she called for it.

She really wasn’t looking forward to that part.

*****

As Tobirama slowly stretched his range over the following months, the pattern with the Uchiha going off alone repeated. Even though Tobirama could reach much further now, he was always coming short, unable to sate his curiosity. He had plenty of useful information for Butsuma, but even his father’s begrudging praise did not matter compared to the near obsessive need to know what was going on with the Uchiha kid.

He had few theories, of course. It could be that the kid was sent to deliver or receive some messages. But then why not use the messenger birds that were frequently leaving in that direction? Something too heavy or valuable. Could be just supplies.

Whatever it was, Tobirama needed to know so badly!

*****

_She was running, following the boy before her, the Uchiwa on his back at the center of her vision. The boy was small, couldn't be older than 8. His black hair was standard for the Uchiha, in the short style that stuck out in the back, but she couldn’t see anything more defining than that. She could see her own black bangs flutter around her face with each step._

_She heard angry shouts behind her, the distinct clamoring of armor and footsteps that always accompanied shinobi who forgone being stealthy._

_The sounds grew closer and she cast a quick glance back. Three adults, swords drawn, in graying green armor, black lines of a vajra on the shoulders. They were catching up quickly._

_Back to the front. She was in a forest, and there didn’t seem to be any characteristic spots around. Trees, some more trees, a nondescript bush–_

_A kick in the back sent her flying into a tree. Blinding pain shot through her body as she felt her ribs crack._

“ _Kuro!” the boy yelled, spinning around, only to be cut down by one of the attackers. She felt her eyes sting, her vision sharpening, watching in clear detail as the blood gushed out of the deep cut of the boy’s chest, before a wave of exhaustion hit her and she blacked out._

_The last thing she saw was the sword coming down on her head._

Aya woke up more tired than when she went to sleep. She forced herself to sit up and write the vision down, trying to remember as much details as possible. The face of the boy was clear in her mind, the details of the wound seared into her brain. Madara sent her a list of clan symbols and general characteristics of their members and she retrieved it from its hiding place. She unrolled the scroll and was immediately met with the vajra symbol.

Senju.

So the ones hunting down the two Uchiha kids were Senju. Her stomach churned as she remembered the vicious satisfaction on the face of the man that cut down the boy. It wasn’t the first time she saw a scene like this, but now she knew exactly what it was: a child hunting squad.

*****

When Madara climbed through the window to Aya’s room, he wasn’t expecting to find her tiredly writing out last lines of a letter, struggling to keep her eyes open.

“New vision?” he asked.

She startled when he took the completed note to read over.

“Good morning to you too. It’s rude to come in unannounced, you know.”

“Hn.”

His eyes scanned the text with growing worry. Sure, “Kuro” could refer to a number of young Uchiha girls, it was rather common, but the ages matched and if it was who he thought it was…

“What did the boy look like? Like this?” he asked, using a henge to change into his younger brother, Togakushi.

He saw as her eyes widened in recognition.

“That’s him!” she said. “Who were they?”

“That’s Togakushi and Kurohime, my younger siblings.” He turned to the window. “You should get some rest Aya. I’ll– I’ll take care of that.”

He run all the way home.

*****

Ichika came in, carrying a tray with breakfast. Her brow furrowed in worry when Aya looked at her with bleary eyes. Although she has been caring for Aya for years now, the sudden shifts in the girl’s health always caught her off guard. She shivered, as a cold draft passed through the room, and she noticed the slightly open window.

“Aya-chan, you know it’s too cold for that,” she chided, closing the window. “You know your health isn’t the best so you have to be more careful!”

“I’m sorry, Ichika-nee,” Aya said quietly.

Ichika’s face softened. Her eyes fell to the wilted flowers near the window.

“Now eat up so you get your strength back.” She picked up the vase, gathering the fallen bits. “I’ll go clean this up and when I get back I expect the plates to be clean, got it?”

“I won’t leave a crumb!” Aya answered, brightening slightly.

*****

Few days after that, Aya heard a familiar bird call from behind her window and got up from her calligraphy practice. She felt excitement bubble up in her chest as she noticed the letter the hawk carried. Madara rarely wrote to her, and visited even less often, so every little note felt special. He mostly wrote back reports on how he managed to use her visions and reassured her that the people she saw die survived, but he sometimes added bits about his own daily life too. She liked those a bit more.

She took out the still too big glove Madara gave her and went to call the hawk. She had to brace her arm for the landing, as Shiori got a lot bigger in the short time they were exchanging letters.

She let the bird return to it’s perch on the tree just outside her room and unrolled the small scroll. Madara’s calligraphy was neat, clearly practiced, but adapted for quick writing; it was so different from her own slow and deliberate brushstrokes.

_How have you been?_

_Your_ _involvement_ _has_ _once again been of_ _a great help to me and my_ _C_ _lan._ _My own siblings have been saved thanks to Your efforts and that is a debt I could not begin to repay. You have my eternal gratitude._

_Please take care of yourself since it's cold._

_Madara_

She didn’t mind the formality of his writing, since she herself used their little correspondence as practice for writing official letters, and she suspected he too didn’t have much opportunit ies to do so.

She read the letter over  one more time before taking the empty flower vase and burning the letter inside. While the books Madara gave her would raise questions if found, at least they didn’t immediately connect her to him. She made sure to get rid of everything that might reveal his involvement, just  in case .  Still, she really wanted to be able to keep something in the future.

** ***** **

_She was standing on a cliff edge, looking over a settlement, buildings peeking out from the dense trees. She was a man in this one, an adult, judging by feeling she got. It was a strange sensation, one she remembered from her other visions._

“… _and others as well,” said somebody to her left. She turned and saw a man in a gray hakama, pale yellow haori over a green kimono shirt. He was tall, taller than she was now, despite how tall her body felt already. The man was tan, with long, dark brown hair falling all they way to his mid back. He was smiling wide, radiating cheer. There was something in his demeanor that made her instantly like him._

“ _This village is going to keep on expanding!” he continued. “We’re going to need to come up with a name for the village too. Any thoughts?”_

_She picked up a leaf that was floating by on the wind, a single hole in it. She brought it up to her face, looking through it over the buildings below._

“ _How about… Konohagakure? The village hidden in the leaves?” she said._

_The vision blurred, and her senses felt muffled for a while before the image clarified again. She was still a man as far as she could tell, but she was taller and built a bit differently. She was walking among simple wooden buildings, not unlike the ones she saw from above. At her side was a man, and although she could not remember where would she see him before, something about him seemed familiar. Long dark hair and the characteristic high collar, combined with the pale complexion made her think he was an Uchiha. Was that somebody who visited her father? She stopped, looking at the kids chasing each other up the street._

“ _It’s hard to believe isn’t it, Madara?” she said._

_Madara? She looked the man over, when she finally turned her head towards the Uchiha again. The face was older and much more somber, but she could see it now._

“ _Sometimes I can hardly believe my own eyes too, Hashirama,”the older Madara said._

_She watched the kids laugh and play for a bit, before the vision shifted again._

_It was even more hazy now, disjointed flashes of people calmly going about their days as she jumped form body to body._

_She haggled at marketplace, filled with so much goods she could hardly process it all before the vision moved to a different location._

_She healed a slash on a stomach of some distinctly Uchiha shinobi, watching the mortal wound fuse together under her tan palms._

_She sparred as a child in what looked like a training field, a diverse crowd cheering her on, two teachers looking on the kids fondly._

_She looked up from the giant gate, at the multiple faces carved into the mountain on the other side of the village._

_The images started shifting faster and faster, too quick and blurred to make out anything._

She woke up with a vague warm feeling in her chest.

She wondered if that really was older Madara. How far into the future was this vision? Was it really a vision? It didn’t feel like her usual ones, those always ended with somebody's death and never shifted perspectives like that, but it was also too real to be a normal dream. Or was it? Was her mind so accustomed to visions that her dreams became so vivid too?

She really hoped it was a vision.

That a place like Konoha could exist one day.

That maybe she would be able to walk it’s streets too.

That not all her visions had to be violent and painful, and to do with somebody’s death.

That maybe, just maybe the world was not as horrible as her visions told her.

It was a nice dream, if nothing else.

*****

On the bank of the Naka river, Madara and Hashirama skipped rocks together for the first time.

** ***** **

Madara didn’t visit for a long time after that. Neither did he send her any notes. Shiori arrived diligently every sunrise, but  Aya had no vision to send and Madara said she shouldn't send him any notes if not necessary,  to avoid  rais ing suspicion. She understood that, she too didn’t want Tajima finding out about her, but it did not mean it was any less tempting.

She looked sadly over at the window, and her heart squeezed when she notices the still empty vase.

Ichika was busy  with her increased lesson time to make up for the upcoming  weeks when she won’t receive any. Sano, the monk that Noburu hired as a teacher for them both, was leaving for a  while . He had gotten permission to visit his family and would remain with them until the celebrations of the New Year ended. Father was busy as always, with the end of the year coming closer perhaps even more than usual; clan matters taking his time up completely.

Her m other  usually secluded herself in her rooms or the greenhouse,  so Aya left her room to seek her out. Kaori,  although distant , loved Aya in her own way. The girl knew the same love did not extend to Noburu, not for the lack of effort  on his side . Her mother did her part as the lady of the house, if perhaps a bit coldly when her husband was concerned. She was dutiful, teaching Aya everything a proper noble woman should know  and caring for her, even if her reasons were a bit confusing to her daughter.

As Aya came closer to her mother’s sitting room, she heard sobbing and the quiet, calming tone of her mother's voice.  She  knew she should leave, but curiosity pushed her to creep closer and peek through the door inside.

Aya saw her mother's back, as she sat cradling a crying Ichika in her lap.  She was rubbing soothing circles on the girl’s back.

“I will speak to my husband, my dear,” Kaori assured, her voice choked, but oddly firm. “I will do whatever I can to prevent your betrothal, I promise.”

‘ _Betrothal?’_ Aya thought. _‘Ichika was promised to somebody?’_

Her mind stopped as she processed the idea. The words made her remember  a talk  she had with her mother  during one of the lessons, when she protested  her smothering care.  The words  Aya heard then often came back to her, even years in the future.

“ _You are very lucky Aya, darling, to be afflicted in this way,”_ her mother had said. _“No one will ask to marry you if you remain like this and Noburu will not try to do so either; he loves you too much for that. Even if you get better, never reveal that, you hear me? Marriage is the end of a woman, darling. Do not throw away your best way to avoid it._

“ _No man will try to cage you, if they will believe you are not fit to bear a child. Having kids is how they get you chained to the house, how they take away your freedom and passions. You must never fall to the same trap I did.”_

They never spoke of it again, but the memory always made Aya sad. It was like a shadow that fell over every interaction they had, the unspoken bitterness that Aya’s existence reminded her mother about. It was perhaps that feeling  wh at made Kaori press so hard to ensure that Aya would never marry, wanting to spare her daughter from the fate that befell her.

The New Year’s celebrations and the festival Aya always looked towards were coming fast, but her  heart  was heavy with worry for her unofficial older sister.

*****

Madara, as was his habit now, went to check on his birds after the morning training, to see if Shiori brought anything from Aya. He took off the scroll holder and checked the hawk for injuries, giving the bird a scrap of meat, before he took the small scroll out to read. His eyes quickly scanned over the note, densely covered in tiny, neat writing. While still not up to mission or intelligence report standards, Aya’s descriptions of her visions were getting more concise while conveying a lot of details.

This one was about a child hiding near a battle, being noticed by a few Uchiha and running into an explosive trap. The way she described it, it seemed that the kid was simply unlucky, chased into some traps that were supposed to cover the retreat if needed. He suspected it was Hagoromo clan’s escape route, as few elements of the trap were characteristic for them. They were planning to face some of the Senju soon, if he what he heard around the War Room was correct. So the kid was most likely Senju then. The question of whether the Uchiha will send reinforcements this time was being debated, but even without the confirmation the vision gave him, Madara knew those opposed to the idea would cave in soon.

In theory, Madara should be happy that his clan’s most hated enemy was to loose a fighter, but the description Aya gave him indicated that the kid was even younger than him, probably closer to Togakushi’s age. It made something uncomfortable roll in his gut when he made the connection. He was already disapproving of sending kids to fight, but imagining his younger brother in the Senju boy’s place made him furious.

But it wasn’t like he could just go and rescue a Senju, no matter how young. Neither could he get his father not to send any Uchiha there, on the off chance that it would save the boy. He clenched his fists in frustration. There wasn’t anything he could do. He shouldn’t even _want_ to do anything.

“Madara-Nii-san?”

Madara jerked and hurriedly stashed the note in his obi, before he turned to Kurohime, who was peeking out from behind the entrance to the shed where they kept the falconry equipment.

“Elder Kuroe said it’s time for your lessons, Nii-san,” she explained.

Madara nodded and closed up, before heading to the Elder’s house.

*****

Hashirama perked up from where he was crouched over the ground looking for nice flat stones to skip while waiting, when he noticed Madara making his way to him from between the trees.

“Let’s spar, Hashirama!” Madara said, forgoing any greetings. “I just sat through the most boring lesson ever and I need to move!”

“Sure!” Hashirama said, sending his friend a smile. It turned into a wide grin when he spotted a bit of paper sticking out from under Madara's obi. “But you might want to put that away, don’t want to accidentally ruin that note. What even is it? You lesson notes? Oh! Is it a l _ove letter?_ Let me see!”

Madara's eyes widened as Hashirama jumped up to him and plucked the note fr o m his belt in one swift movement.

“Hey! Give that back!” Madara shouted, reaching out to take it, only for Hashirama to jump back and run away.

H e chased the other boy along the river, Hashirama ducking and weaving around Madara's attempts to grab him.  He almost got it back, but at the same time he made contact with the paper, Hashirama tugged his obi and untied it. Madara scrambled to get his legs out of the now too long yukata he wore, a hand-me-down that he still had to grow into. The obi was the only thing keeping the excess length in place and now the material was tangle d around him.

Hashirama cackled as he bolted, unfolding the note and starting to read. His laughter soon faded into silence and he stopped, staring at the paper with wide eyes.

“I-I need to go now,” Hashirama said, eyes never leaving the paper. “See you later, Madara!”

Madara watched, the half tied obi forgotten in his hands, as his friend sprinted back into the forest.

*****

Hashirama was acting weird. Not the usual weird, not even his recent going-off-alone-to-train weird, but a completely new kind of off behavior.

Tobirama's older brother was currently asking him to sense out a particular area while refusing to give any reason for it.

“Please, just do it! For me? Tobirama,” Hashirama whined.

“Why do you want to me to do that? Why there? What do you know, anija?” Tobirama felt his anger rise at his brother’s refusal to explain.

“I-I… What? No, no reason, just curious, nothing else!”

Tobirama didn’t even need to sense his brother’s chakra to tell it was a lie, not with all the flailing and waving his brother did. Why would Hashirama want him to suddenly scout out some random place? It was just a clearing near the Naka, somewhere between the Senju and Hagoromo territories, and…Tobirama froze. Wasn’t it around where Kawarama set off for his mission? So Hashirama was just worried? Why didn’t he just say so? It wasn’t like Tobirama would chastise him for it like Butsuma undoubtedly would. He sighed, closing his eyes to focus on the area his Anija mentioned.

There was the Senju squad, and Kawarama… Kawarama wasn't with them.

Tobirama’s heart stopped for a second. He scanned the area, desperately searching for his brother's chakra. He wasn’t with the few who retreated, heavily injured most likely, not to the sides of the battle, why is he not with his squad? There are so many signatures, and it’s hard to tell, but Tobirama knows his brother’s one better than any other, he would not miss it, so why isn’t it–

There!

Kawarama was away from his team, behind the group of of Hagoromo clan’s warriors. It seemed he remained safe for now, but Tobirama sensed that Uchiha reinforcements were closing in.

They were still some way away and the battlefield was closer to the Senju compound and if they hurry they’ll be there first and–

“Tobirama?” Hashirama asked, seeing his brother’s expression change.

Tobirama bolted out the door.

“Oi, Tobirama! What did you sense! Tobirama!”

*****

The mad rush there was a blur of panic and _tooslowtooslowtooslow_ in Tobirama's mind, all his attention on his little brother's chakra, so full of fear and so little compared to the adults around. It wasn’t good to be so narrowly focused on that, it left Tobirama vulnerable, and he might miss something important, but he didn’t care, he couldn’t keep his senses away from Kawarama; he needed to feel that his brother was still alive, still safe.

Their  group was sneaking around the  edge of the battlefield, their mission to surround the Hagoromo currently engaged in the clearing and cut off their reinforcements. Tobirama and Hashirama, on the other hand, were focused solely on getting to Kawarama. Tobirama cursed his slowness; what good was knowing the situation if he couldn’t get there fast enough?  A t any moment somebody could notice Kawarama and Tobirama would know, and he wouldn’t be able to help,  and it  would be his fault!

His spiraling thoughts were interrupted when he  spotted a shaky figure of his younger brother. He was bruised and tired, small scratches all around his limbs, but he was alive.  He was also  crawling straight towards the  incoming  Uchiha group.

Tobirama’s legs were burning from the mad dash he already made, but he forced himself to speed up anyway, crossing the last bit of distance. He was almost at Kawarama's side, when he felt a tug at his neck, a hand pulling him away. He wanted to protest, but then he heard the hiss of an activating explosive tag and ducked behind the nearest tree.

His heart was beating wildly, his ears ringing, as he processed what happened. He immediately focused on sensing, his knees almost buckling in relief when he felt Kawarama's chakra still there.

Tobirama noted the spike of surprise at the explosion in the chakras of the nearby Uchiha, and soon the enemy was converging on the brothers’ position.

All that he did after, the fight and the way back were almost automatic, his mind whirling with realization of what almost happened. Him setting off that trap could have gotten Kawarama seriously injured. His brother could have died. He could have died.

He cursed himself for his stupidity. He needed to get better at keeping track of his sensing while staying aware of his surroundings. He needed to be better, if he wanted to keep his brothers alive.

The consequent battle was short, and before long the Uchiha and the few Hagoromo that managed to make it through the Senju reinforcements were retreating. The Senju didn’t give chase, knowing full well how trapped their escape routes the Hagoromo made were.

*****

Once back home, after a lot of smothering hugs from all of his brothers, Tobirama managed to catch Hashirama alone and tried questioning him about the whole thing. His Anija knew something and Tobirama felt his slight paranoia get better of him, his imagination running wild as he tried to find an explanation. Tobirama hated not knowing and Hashirama's denial and pathetic excesses irked him to no end

Still, after unsuccessfully pressing for a  good  ten minutes , he had to  give way before  Hashirama's stubbornness. Temporarily resigned, but not completely  giving up, he headed to bed.

*****

Next weeks passed pleasantly for Madara, few of Aya’s visions coming in handy on missions. He managed to save many of his clansmen, and not all of those were by avoiding the danger from the get go, so the news of his actions reached his father. Madara was enjoying the praise and the talk of his missions being casualty free for his team for quite a while now.

His father was trusting his decisions more, letting him voice out his opinions on strategy meetings and even out in the field he found himself being asked to weigh in on things.

So understandably, he went to check on the falcons in high spirits.

His mood have plummeted when he read the vision Aya sent him.

It was another one with a child hunting squad, five shinobi chasing down a kid. Five _Uchiha_ shinobi Mocking and jeering at the boy, before killing him with glee. Madara felt bile rise in his throat at the description.

The kid that was to die was undoubtedly a Senju. Killed in the same way Togakushi and Kurohime almost were.

Madara hated the child hunting squads with his whole heart. He hated the idea behind them, he hated the kind of people that made up the teams. He hated that his clan allowed itself to stoop so low as to tolerate them and the people who took such obvious pleasure in murdering children. But he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

But somebody else could.

Madara froze as the idea entered his brain.

He ha d suspected from the reaction Hashirama had when he recognized the Hagoromo fighter’s body. Then there was his fighting style too. The direction he went when going home. Even they way he dressed and talked seemed too different.  But most damning was his reaction to the vision of the Senju boy exploding.  Hashirama had to be a Senju, or at least from a clan allied with them. Madara tried to ignore that thought for as long as he could, as if pretending to not know somehow made it less of a treason to befriend the kid. But now that it fully formed in his mind, he could no longer fool himself into thinking otherwise.

He felt his heart hammering in his chest, hands shaking as he folded the note to hide it in his belt.

He might not be able to help the kid, but maybe Hashirama could.

It would mean Madara actively helped his clan’s most hated enemy. It would mean he deliberately gave them information, one that could possibly lead them to discovering Aya’s existence at that. He should stop meeting with Hashirama altogether.

It would mean treason.

He waited till the sky got dark, but Hashirama never made it to their meeting spot that day.

Back home, Madara laid awake all night, anxiety eating away at him until exhaustion overtook him and he fell asleep just as the sun was creeping towards the horizon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shiori, the name of Madara's hawk, means poem.  
> The opening and closing expressions for Madara’s letters are like that because in Japanese letters there are fixed expressions to use. They depend, among other things, on time of the year and I took inspiration from them.  
> Also big thanks to everyone on ayyyez's discord who helped me brainstorm and get me unstuck when writing this, especially Ifigenia_the_cruel(she's on ao3 so check her out) and seventhserpent


	3. Chapter 3

_She was taller, but still a girl, wrapped in a thick travel cloak, sneaking down a corridor of a house in almost complete darkness, save for a bit of moonlight seeping through the window at the corner. It took her a second, but she recognized it. It was her house. She reached the back door and left, quietly crossing the gardens, avoiding the occasional guard and reaching the back gate in the estate wall. She fished out a small key out of her sleeve. The gate was moving with a bit of a whine and she constantly stopped, straining to listen for anyone that might have noticed. Her heart was beating erratically. After a few tense moments, she slipped through the gap and repeated the process to close the gate from the other side._

_She made it few steps from the wall before she saw a similarly wrapped figure, two heavy looking sacks at their feet. The cloaked person raised their head, and in the faint light she recognized a girl that visited their estate with her merchant father quite frequently._

“ _Ichika?” the girl asked. “You sure nobody saw you?”_

“ _Yeah. Let’s move before the patrol gets here,” Aya said with Ichika’s voice, taking one of the bags._

“ _Follow me. We’ll go straight to the border with Hagoromo. My father is waiting in a town on their side and we’ll take you with us from there.”_

_They walked hurriedly in complete silence, holding hands the entire time as they stumbled over the roots and holes in the ground, hidden by the near absolute darkness that enveloped the deeper parts of the forest. She was starting to feel her leg muscles burn, exhaustion seeping in, but the other girl constantly tugged at her arm, prodding her to keep moving._

_Suddenly they heard a snap, a sound of a tree splitting, and shouts, before nearby trees lit up from a fireball that engulfed the bushes to their side. They startled, seeing shinobi clashing on the other side of the flames. Another stray jutsu flied towards them, multiple small fire missiles setting the forest aflame, cutting off their path. She felt smoke and heat sting her eyes, painfully hot on her skin, tasting ash as she breathed. She tugged the other girl to herself, trying desperately to see a way out. She didn’t see the next technique fly at her through the fire around._

_She screamed as it hit her in the back, the cloth and flesh melting under the intense heat, until the blinding pain was cut off as even her nerves were burnt. Her vision went black._

Aya woke up crying, the memory of the all consuming pain fresh in her mind. She stared at her own, unblemished back in the mirror and desperately tried to calm herself down. It wasn’t the first vision that had her burn alive by any means, she had experienced plenty of those. Her visions seemed to extend over the few clan owned lands that were close and with the Uchiha being a direct neighbor many of her visions involved fire.

But knowing it was Ichika who was to meet such a painful end… Aya felt new wave of tears pressing at her eyes. She cried for hours,  as the sun rose up, sobs wracking her body.

*

Madara overslept. It was his day off, and he was supposed to rest, so no one came to wake him up. He hurriedly dressed and rushed out of the house, straight towards the Naka river. The tiny piece of paper felt like a stone, getting heavier with every step closer to the bank.

This was a horrible idea. He shouldn't be doing it. He shouldn’t keep meeting Hashirama. He should go back and tell his father all about it.

And yet he felt a wave of relief when he spotted Hashirama sitting on the rocks. This way he could help. Now, everything was going to turn out alright.

*

Aya sat neat the widow, open despite the cold air, straining to see if the hawk was there. Hours passed by, the sun climbing higher on the sky, with no sign of the bird. She worried that she missed it, that she took too long to calm down and Shiori flew away. She wanted to cry. Did something happen to the bird on the way? Did something happen to Madara?

She was trembling, from both the cold and the sobs she tried to suppress. She needed to save Ichika somehow, she needed her to be safe. How was she supposed to do that if she couldn't inform Madara?

She waited the entire day, shivering in the cold air the open window let in, but refusing to close it in case she missed the hawk. She felt sick, her stomach churning with anxiety. She barely ate any of the food Ichika brought her and the worried expression on her face made Aya feel even worse.

When the night came, Aya laid awake, desperately trying to hold in her tears. The hawk never arrived. She took a calming breath and tried to focus her panicked mind, looking for anything she could do on her own. She didn’t want to stop Ichika from leaving, she didn’t want to be the one to sentence her to a marriage the teenager so clearly didn’t want. But more than that she didn’t want Ichika to die.

She felt small and helpless, once again unable to do anything because nobody ever believed her warnings.

But that was not true anymore. Because Madara did believe her. So maybe, maybe she could at least try.

*

Tobirama was combing through the mission reports, trying to find any clue as to how the Uchiha were managing to avoid most of the ambushes the Senju set up. He was also bothered by the low number of enemies they managed to kill in the recent few months. Something was up and Tobirama was determined to figure it out. If there was a spy leaking out information, they were doing a scarily good job. He has spent the better part of the last month, between training and his own research in the clan library, analyzing all the reports and piecing together any information that might help.

So far he found very little and he was getting desperate for anything to point him in the right direction.

His frantic search through the pile of scrolls was interrupted when the door to the room was thrown open. Before he managed to look up, he had a lap full of two colored hair, Itama clinging to him, sobbing softly. He must have run here straight from a battle, only taking a moment to take off the armor. Tobirama withheld a wince at the grime, dirt and blood that his little brother was rubbing into his clothes. Foregoing any attempts to keep his shirt clean, he leaned down to give Itama a proper hug, letting the younger boy cry into his shoulder.

By the time Hashirama came by to peek into the room, freshly bathed and in clean clothes, Itama was much calmer, only quietly sniffling, but still not letting go of the embrace.

Tobirama sighed.

“Come on, Itama, let’s go get you cleaned up,” he said, standing up.

He had to carry his brother, since Itama simply wrapped himself around Tobirama's torso, clinging to him like a baby monkey. He had to pry Itama away to get him out of the dirty under-armor and wash off the layers of dirt and sweat that covered him. Tobirama took his time, thoroughly cleaning Itama's two colored hair. He figured out it was a good moment to prod a bit, since he knew from experience that warm water and the scalp massage should be enough to keep his brother calm. Itama shared his older brother's love of water, although he wasn’t as keen on deep cold ponds as Tobirama was.

“So? What happened?” Tobirama asked.

Itama didn’t answer immediately and looked down at his lap, and Tobirama instantly knew whatever it was, was serious. Itama, not unlike Hashirama, was prone to emotional outbursts, though thankfully for Tobirama’s sanity he was much milder in his mood swings. For something to make him close up like that was alarming.

“The Uchiha, they– they got me separated and surrounded, and put me in a genjutsu, and–” Itama shuddered, and continued in a small voice. “It was– it was a child hunting squad, Tobirama-Anija.”

Tobirama’s breath hitched. He had to force himself not to clench his hands and tug on Itama’s hair.

“If Hashirama-Anija didn’t get there when he did…”

Neither of them said anything until they were back in their room. That night all four Senju brothers allowed themselves to slide their futons together, piling up around Itama, not caring if Butsuma would scold them in the morning.

*

Aya was sneaking to the back door, intent on intercepting Ichika before she left and convincing her to take a different route. Sure, she was going to miss her big sister, but with the arranged marriage looming on the horizon, Aya wanted nothing but for Ichika to be safe and happy; even if she never saw her again. When Ichika was reaching for the door, Aya came out of the shadows, catching her hand.

“Ichika-nee?” she asked.

Ichika spun around, her hand flying up to her mouth to stop herself from screaming. She looked at Aya with wide eyes, tension draining out when she recognized the girl.

“You should be in bed, Aya-chan. Go back to sleep.”

“You can’t go through the forest, Ichika-nee,” Aya whispered.

“Aya-chan, I don’t know how you know about that–” Ichika said, scrunching her brows, “–but I need to go now.”

“Ichika-nee, wait! You can’t you’ll–” Aya didn't manage to finish, because Ichika yanked her wrist painfully, other hand smothering Aya's words.

“I’m sorry Aya-chan, but I have to go. It’s my only chance. The guards will come here soon and I need to be out of sight by then. Goodbye. I’ll miss you.”

Ichika run out the door before Aya had any chance to explain. The girl stood there, tears welling up. She was supposed to tell Ichika why she can’t go that way, convince her to take a different route, she was supposed to change the horrible future she saw!

She didn’t want to do it like that, she didn’t want to stop Ichika from leaving altogether, but it was better than her burning to death, so she had no choice!

She screamed, as loud as she could, and before long the entire house was up, frantic Noburu taking her from the night guard that found her first. Outside, more servants were running around, dragging a struggling Ichika back to the estate.

Aya was glad that her father carried her straight to her room. She didn’t want to see what kind of look would Ichika’s eyes have if they saw each other now. Aya saw her mother over Noburu’s shoulder, a silent accusation in her gaze that made the girl curl up and hide in her father’s arms.

She wanted to explain, to tell all of them what she saw, but she knew it was useless to try. She had tried to convince her mother before. She had tried to warn her father multiple times. She tried talking to servants, she tried telling to Ichika before too. They dismissed it as childish fantasy and simple nightmares.

Only Madara believed her.

And it seemed he too has forgotten about her.

*

Tobirama woke up early and had to untangle himself from Itama, both of them ending up clinging to each other in their sleep. Itama merely turned over and attached himself to Hashirama's back. Tobirama went to get his clothes, when noticed the pile of discarded armor and frowned. Sure, his brothers remembered to clean it at least, but why didn’t they put it away properly afterwards? And why did they have to leave it in front of his wardrobe? He sighted and started moving the armor pieces to the side to get to his own things. He noted with dismay that there was a bag of dirty laundry underneath the pile. He took a second to compose himself, remembering what happened to Itama. He looked back at the armor lying in a heap next to him and took it and the bag.

Once he put the armor away, he went to wash up and change into his everyday clothes. He stuffed his sleep shirt with the rest of the clothes in the bag and headed for the laundry house, to drop it off before he went to eat and do his usual sensing training.

He was greeted coldly by a few clan women who were already doing their chores. He felt their eyes on him as he handed the clothes off. He was just about to leave when a voice stopped him.

“You left something in here!” yelled the woman who was unpacking the bag, waving a piece of paper at him with a scowl. “Honestly, you could’ve at least checked them over beforehand!”

Tobirama simply turned back and took it from her, never letting his expression waver. When he was outside, he heard the shushed tones of the women:

“Ungrateful kid,” someone sneered.

“Who does he thing he is? I can’t believe Butsuma-sama tolerates this deficient brat! Even the half-formed one would be better.”

Deficient. Meaning faulty, flawed, imperfect. The definition and the kanji for it was etched into his brain. He remembered first hearing it, not understanding what it meant. He had tried asking mother, but she only smiled sadly, like she always did when he came to her asking about words others spoke about him. So did Hashirama, when he tried asking him next. He quickly learned not to tell them, instead looking for the specific kanji, so he could add it to his list of hard words from his readings that his teacher would explain to him.

He has learned a lot of words this way.

Tobirama went back and headed straight to the pond to meditate, not feeling like he could stomach a breakfast. He was just about to walk into the water when he remembered he still had the paper from his brother’s clothes. He took it out and unfolded it, looking over the unfamiliar handwriting. The details of it made him forget about his training altogether. It described Itama’s death by the hand of the Uchiha child hunting squad. It was too neat and proper for shinobi hand, the shorthand they used for quick writing was quite different, but the wording and form of the note was more like that of an intel report, however imperfect.

Which of his brothers had it? And why?

*

Aya slowly looked up from the cold food on the tray before her when she heard a familiar bird call. She almost didn’t believe her ears. She got up, grabbing her glove. Shiori glided gracefully from her perch on the tree outside to Aya’s outstretched hand. Aya pet the bird gently for a bit before she noticed the letter that was in the holster on it’s back. She took the small scroll out and let Shiori return to her tree.

_This year is drawing to a close._

_The fighting among the clans has calmed as we all prepare for the festivities. As always your visions were of great help. I have made a friend from outside the clan and I believe some of_ _your predictions_ _have helped him as well._ _His name is Hashirama._

Hashirama? The name seemed familiar to her for some reason.

_Do not be afraid, I made sure your existence remains a secret._

_He shares my disdain for the_ _war and like me yearns for peace. We have been talking at length and he has spoke to me of the idea for a village he had. One made by alliances between the clans, where children can grow away from the battlefield. I had thought you would find it interesting. I would love to discuss it with you it person next time I am able to visit._

_Please take care of yourself since it's cold._

_Madara_

Of course! The dream she had of an older Madara, of the village!

She smiled for the first time since her confrontation with Ichika, remembering the pleasant vision she had. If they were talking about the village now, could it be it? Was this the beginning? Was this what would eventually lead to the place she saw becoming real? She really hoped it was.

She read the letter over a few times before she went to burn it on the incense tray, as the vase she usually used was filled with pale blue Forget-me-nots.

*

Tobirama looked the note over for an umpteenth time. Details. So many details that no one could have known ahead of time or predicted. And yet, whoever wrote it described the situation down to the second, save for the result of the squabble. And he was certain it would have played out precisely as written out, had Hashirama decided not to trust it.

In the end, when faced with the note, Hashirama told him all about the situation he found Itama in thanks to it and how only knowing what it described allowed him to save their youngest brother.

When Tobirama pressed him further, he confessed that he got it from a friend he has been seeing for a time now, when he want off to train “alone” at the river.

Tobirama was filled with curiosity and concern, interested in how such an ability worked, and worried about the implications of an unknown player with enough information to manipulate the future as they please, even if they helped the Senju this time.

Tobirama didn't know how it was possible to predict something with such accuracy. He didn't know who made the note. He didn't know why they gave it to hi s brother .

And he couldn't stand not knowing.

*

Tobirama found himself training his sensing at an unusual time, hoping to memorize Hashirama's friend’s signature for later investigation. He found Hashirama on his way back, but no sign of his friend. What he did find was a signature he knew so well close by. The Uchiha kid. He frowned. Hashirama was going out there a lot and finding any Uchiha lurking around was concerning.

Tobirama went to find his father. This was something that Butsuma needed to know. On the way to his father’s study, Tobirama focused to locate Hashirama, keeping tabs on him just in case. He was relieved to find his brother’s signature, the happy, warm feel of it he knew so well, safely on his way towards the Senju compound.

His father was reading through some scroll when Tobirama entered the office. His chakra was as unreadable as ever, tightly controlled to not reveal anything. Butsuma didn’t look up form his work, but he spoke:

“What is it?”

“I have sensed Uchiha around the area Anija goes to train. I could not confirm if they have seen him.”

“I see. Follow Hashirama tomorrow. Gather all the information you can.”

Tobirama forced himself to keep his face expression even.

“Understood.”

He left the room, worry and unease churning in his gut.

*

Tobirama wasn't happy with tailing Hashirama. Still, he too was suspicious of his brother's new friend and having Uchiha so close to where Hashirama met him only added to his worry.

None of that meant he enjoyed spying on his brother like that.

Tobirama was infusing chakra since they left the compound, keeping a lookout for any Uchiha. He wasn't that surprised to find the, by this point familiar, blaze, ash and edge of the Uchiha he usually trained his sensing on. What did surprise him was the lack of any other chakra in the area. Was Hashirama's friend not there yet?

But then the Uchiha came out of the trees on the other side of the river. It was weird, finally having a face to go with the signature he knew. The kid was a bit older than him, Hashirama's age most likely, dark hair wild and messy. His clothes were casual and visibly hand me downs, too big for him still, but nice. Whoever he was, his parents were important enough to have such quality items.

The boy run up to Hashirama and Tobirama tensed, ready to jump in to aid his brother.

But the Uchiha never attacked. Instead, he greeted Hashirama and they started talking, laughing and bickering like old friends.

Because they were friends, Tobirama realized with dawning horror.

Several things clicked into place in his mind in rapid succession.

Hashirama got the note from his friend. His friend was an Uchiha – the Uchiha that Tobirama has been following with his sensing for a year now. The Uchiha that sent birds and sometimes run out of Tobirama's range to somewhere. Somewhere where the note's author could be. The boy had access to such knowledge. There wasn't that much change in how the Uchiha operated, but the few incidents he had investigated before could be explained by it. Too many times the Senju seemed to have bad luck, facing unfavorable match-ups, too many ambushes failing or finding more enemy shinobi that the mission they carried would reasonably require, unless one expected to be attacked.

But that did not explain why the Uchiha boy would warn Hashirama and why did the Uchiha who were coming close to Kawarama seem genuinely surprised to find him there. If they knew that was gong to happen, why did those shinobi who would encounter Kawarama not be informed, even of it was generally a secret? Surely if they knew Butsuma' son was there, they would have went after him earlier, not only after Tobirama accidentally set off a trap.

Unless... unless the boy didn't tell them. Kept it secret and warned Hashirama instead. What was he planning? Was he trying to gain Hashirama's trust? Tobirama' mind was going mile a minute, trying to find out what the Uchiha was plotting. It didn't make any sense to him. Why leave handling such important information to a boy? Why could he hide such sensitive information from the rest of the clan? Why _would_ he?

Did anyone in the Uchiha clan even know the boy had such source? Or does he pretend to get his information some other way, picking and choosing what to tell others, to make himself look good?

Either way, Tobirama refused to believe the Uchiha warned them purely out of the goodness of his heart.

He was startled out of his musings when Hashirama and the Uchiha boy started sparring. Tobirama paid close attention to the fighting style the boy used, looking for potential weaknesses. The two of them looked to be tied in skill, although Hashirama seemed to fare better the longer the fight went on, Tobirama noticed with pride.

This had to stop. Hashirama couldn’t keep meeting up with the Uchiha. He was happy to see his brother make friends, but he didn’t trust that kid. It was simply too dangerous for his Anija.

Tobirama watched them until they said their goodbyes and sped ahead to report to Butsuma, guilt eating away at him.

*

Madara looked over his shoulder at Hashirama. He knew the truth deep down all along, but he still held onto hope. If Hashirama had been from any other clan, one of those only siding with the Senju, there still would have been a chance. Some clans were not as attached to their alliances. Some have changed sides in the past. If Hashirama hadn’t been born a Senju there still could have been a chance for them to create that peace.

But Hashirama was a Senju.

In the end, peace was just a childish dream.

It was time they grew up and faced reality.

There was no escaping who they were.

His eyes turned red, one tomoe spinning, as he spoke:

“I’m… Uchiha Madara.”

*

Tobirama crouched down in the cover of the bushes, stilling as the signatures of the Uchiha passed him by a wide margin and sped off towards the Senju lands. He sighed in relief. It seems his little misdirection worked and he manged to loose his pursuers. He could only hope the rest of the team he set out with was doing okay.

Their mission has once again turned out to be disaster. The Uchiha knew they were coming, there was no other explanation for why there were so many of them there. Tobirama had to use up most of his chakra on water jutsu to make himself an escape route after few fire techniques cut him off from the rest of his team.

Now he was almost completely exhausted in the middle of enemy territory, with a bleeding calf that sported a nasty cut. He needed a safe space to hide away and regain his strength, patch himself up, rest and eat up so he can replenish his chakra a bit. Trying to make it home in his current state would be a suicide. The sun would rise up soon and he needed to have a good hiding spot before it did.

He felt a faint, familiar signature moving nearby.

It was the bird that Madara kid would send off every day!

Tobirama quickly considered his options. Sure he was alone and tired, but he couldn’t be sure the bird would not leave his range if he stayed put, and a chance like that could not come again. He focused on the chakra, following it with his mind to see where it went. He forced his protesting muscles to move and after one last check of the area for enemies went after the bird.

Tobirama tailed the hawk all the way to the estate, stopping in the trees some way away from it. Observing from his perch on a high branch, he saw the window open, but he couldn't see the person who did it. The bird flied inside and out after a while, and the window closed. Tobirama retreated to a hiding spot he found on the way there. He secured it, bandaged his leg best he could and allowed himself to fall into a shallow nap. Once the night came and he had a bit more energy, he would go in to see if he could find anything in the room the bird entered.

*

Tobirama focused on the signature of the person he felt let the bird in before and frowned. Something was disturbing it, like a genjutsu was cast over them. He hurriedly climbed up the wall surrounding the house, and dropped into the garden, moving stealthily through the dense bushes. Getting all the way up to the house was laughably easy. He scaled the outside wall in few quick steps, unlocked the right window and slipped in.

The room was dark, the only bit of light coming from behind him, through the window he left slightly ajar in case he needed to escape quickly. He saw the small figure on the raised floor to his left, on a futon laid out behind a half-wall. Focusing on the chakra he could clearly feel the disturbed flow, unlike any genjutsu he encountered before. What in the world did the Uchiha do? He came closer and took a better look at the person laying there. It was a girl, couldn't be older than Hashirama, pale skin clammy and face scrunched up in pain, the long dark braid tussled like she has been turning in her sleep a lot.

He kneeled down next to her, one hand grasping a kunai, and brought his other hand to her shoulder. He pushed a bit of his chakra to dispel whatever genjutsu she was trapped in.

It didn’t work.

Her chakra was still deeply disturbed and he only now noticed it was steadily being drained. What kind of technique was that? Tobirama tried to dispel it a few more times, to no avail. The girl’s chakra was draining faster with each passing minute and he started to seriously worry if she would survive.

Then, the disturbance in her chakra disappeared, and she seemed to keep sleeping peacefully, her face relaxing. Tobirama waited a while longer and when nothing seemed to change he shook her arm to wake her up, kunai at the ready.

*

Aya’s eyes flew open and she startled at the hand that covered her mouth. She caught a glint of light in the corner of her vision and saw a kunai pointed at her. She forced the wave of panic down, trying to hold as still as she could. She focused on the person holding her.

The faint moonlight was lighting the boy from behind, making his white hair glow ethereally. As her eyes adjusted, she was able to see more of his features, the narrow eyes glaring at her and the pale skin of the hand that brought he kunai to her throat. She made out the lines of the Senju vajra on his happuri.

She should have felt terrified, having the Uchiha’s most vicious enemy in front of her, but in her visions she faced this scenario plenty of times, and the boy didn’t have the same threatening aura as those who killed her in her dreams. Something about his posture and face told her he wasn’t likely to hurt her and she felt herself relax in his grip.

*

Tobirama waited for the initial shock to wear off and stilled in surprise when the girl’s chakra evened out completely. She went from horrified to calm way too quickly. She looked at him with open curiosity and interest, and her chakra confirmed those to be genuine. No one besides his brothers and Touka felt like that when looking at him. He glared at her, not sure what to make of her reaction.

“When I remove my hand, you’re going to stay silent and I won’t hurt you,” he said.

The girl nodded at him, still eerily calm considering the situation. Just what the hell did the Uchiha do to have her behave like that?

“I’m going to ask you a few questions. Don’t even try to lie, I will know if you do. First, what was that technique that drained your chakra right now?” He slowly moved his hand away from her mouth.

She looked at him with wide eyes.

“A technique…drained my energy?” she whispered, clear surprise in her chakra.

“So you don’t know. There was a strong genjutsu cast on you, one that I could not dispel even by disrupting your chakra.”

She frowned, clearly thinking something over.

“Next, who is sending the notes to the Uchiha?”

“I do.” No lie here.

“Who is the one providing the information?” he prodded.

She bit her lip, looking around for a bit, before she seemed to have come to some decision and looked him straight in the eyes.

“Me.”

Truth.

Tobirama could not hide his surprise. _She_ was the one who knew all those thing about the future?

“How? How did you know all that?”

“I have those…visions, when I sleep. I just woke up from one, actually.” She scrunched her brows. “Wait, so that weird genjutsu that drained me? Was that my vision? They sometimes leave me more tired than if I didn’t sleep, is that’s why? They just…eat up all my chakra?” Her eyes blew wide as she made the connection.

Tobirama froze. Could it be it? If it was her own ability, it would make sense it drew on her own reserves. How did that work?

“So you can see the future?” He found it hard to believe, but the accuracy of the notes was hard proof to deny.

“Yes, sometimes. But only of people dying. I can’t really control what they show me or how long they last.”

“Do you see it like you are there, or from up above? What was the longest vision you had? Do you only see, or can you hear or smell things as well? Can you move to change a point of vie–“

“Um, can you slow down a bit?”

Tobirama felt heat climb up his cheeks and was thankful for the deep shadows that hid his face. Still, her chakra didn’t feel hostile or even annoyed like he expected. She was…amused?

“Okay, so, it’s kind of like I’m the person that dies? Like, I feel and see all they do, and I can’t control what they do. I’m just along for the ride, I guess. What were the other ones?”

“Longest vision.”

“Right, um, a full day I think? I know I slept for 3 days after that one.”

“I wonder if that would change with better chakra control? Could that give some control over the vision’s length? Or is it an issue or reserves?” Realizing he was mumbling his theories, Tobirama bit his tongue before he embarrassed himself more. He had another million questions he wanted to ask, but they would have to wait for now.

“And you are sending those visions to the Uchiha clan, or just to Madara?”

“You know him?” He felt the curiosity rise up in her chakra.

“We’ve met,” he said, not hiding his disdain. “So he’s the only one that knows?”

“Yes. I’d appreciate it if you keep it a secret as well.”

“And why wouldn’t I just take you with me to my clan, hm?”

“Because if you let me stay here, I’ll provide you with the information willingly.”

“And you’ll keep the Uchiha informed too, yeah, I don’t think so. You’re going with me.”

“If I disappear Madara will notice and tell his clan. If you try to kidnap me, I will do all I can to resist.”

“I could knock you out,” he scoffed.

“Do you really think you can drag me all the way through the Hisawara lands, avoiding all the Uchiha patrols, in your state?” She pointed to his calf, the bandage on his leg seeped through, a dark stain clearly visible even in the low light. “And even if you did, I would not help you. I’d just keep my visions to myself. Or give you a false one.”

Tobirama sent her a glare as an answer.

“I could just kill you, so they don’t get any information,” he said.

“You could. But you won’t. No, here’s what you are going to do.” Ashe gave him a defiant look. “You will go home and keep it a secret. If you do, you’ll get my full cooperation and all the information I get from my visions. In exchange for that you’ll teach me how to use and train my chakra.”

“And why would I do that?”

“You said it yourself, didn’t you? My visions are tied to my chakra. So if I leaned more about it, maybe I can figure out a way to control them. This way you can get better information in the future. I can always ask Madara, if you don’t want to.” She shrugged, looking away. “But I won’t tell you anything I discover about the ability itself then.”

Tobirama scowled deeper. He was annoyed, because what she said was true. There was no way he would be able to take her with him. And he was curios. So, so curious to know how her ability worked in detail. He clenched his teeth in irritation.

“Fine. I’ll teach you. And keep your secret. So, what was your vision about?”

“I’m Hisawara Aya, nice to meet you. What’s your name?” She sent him a cheeky smile. “Oh, and could please you remove the kunai? It’s kind of weird, you know, now that we’re acquaintances?”

He scowled even harder, but his hard learned politeness made him move the blade away.

“I’m Tobirama.”

“So, how do we go about it? I mean, Madara sends in a hawk so I can write him about my visions.”

“That’s… That’s a good question. I can’t really use our messenger birds, the border patrols will notice them for sure. I’ll probably have to come here myself.”

He first felt her chakra change, before he looked up to see her expression twist with…worry? Why would she be worried about him? Her expression was so open, so easy to read compared to the controlled faces of shinobi that Tobirama was used to and yet he could hardly believe it.

“Isn’t that dangerous? You are a Senju and the Uchiha patrol pretty regularly here.”

“That won’t be a problem for me.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” He might have sounded a bit more angry than he intended, considering the way she flinched at that.

“That’s not a problem, I assure you. What I need to know is when to come, because I’d rather not go all the way out here for nothing. Do you have those visions every time you go to sleep or just during the nights? Do they follow any pattern?”

“No, they seem pretty random. I had visions sleeping during the day before though.”

Tobirama sat back, considering his options. He could sense when she was having a vision, but his range did not extend far enough yet. Depending on how often those visions came though, he’d have to spend a considerable amount of time sneaking there and back. He supposed that if he disguised it as endurance training it would not raise much suspicion. He already did most of his training in the evenings, to avoid sun as much as he could. He probably could convince father that with his sensing he’d be better suited to night missions and keep a proper sleep schedule this way. He was sure that with time he’d be able to extend his sensing far enough, but for now he would have to do with running to the border to check.

“Do you usually need to stay up late?” he asked.

“Not really. Everyone thinks that the exhaustion I get from visions is some kind of unknown ailment I have and they actually prefer if I go to sleep early.”

“Okay, so here’s what I need you to do. Make sure to go to sleep earlier, so that by the time the sun has set you are asleep. I’ll run as far as I need to sense your chakra–”

“Sense my chakra? You can do that?”

“Yes, if you’ll have a vision I’ll be able to feel it and I’ll come. If not I’ll just head home. But you need to be consistent with your sleep schedule for that to work. At some point I should be able to do that without having to come closer, but until then I need you to keep going to sleep early.”

“Oh. Alright. I’ll make sure to do that.” She smiled at him. “I assume you want me to keep all of this a secret from Madara too, correct?”

He nodded.

“Now, what was the vision you just had about?”

*

Tobirama left Aya’s room before dawn, with freshly bandaged leg and mind filled with information about the future. He wasn’t sure what to think of the girl yet, or if he was doing the right thing. But if her future visions would prove useful and help them keep up with the Uchiha, then maybe it would be worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tobirama and Aya finally meet! I was so excited to get to this part!  
> Writing kid Tobirama was a lot of fun and I hope you all enjoyed reading his parts.
> 
> Next chapter is in the works, but I'm having some trouble with it, so it might not come out until the end of the month.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a sudden burst of inspiration and finished writing this at 4am today so now that I've slept and did some edits, here is the first chapter in the new year, so we're off to a good start this year.  
> Hopefully the creative blessing will extend to the rest of the year and to all of you as well!

Tobirama stood in front of Butsuma’s office, mentally rehearsing his arguments for the umpteenth time. He has thought this over and over, preparing for any counter arguments his father might use. If he didn’t manage to convince Father to let him switch to the night rotation for patrols and missions, his runs to get the information from the Hisawara girl would be harder to hide, not to mention more exhausting. Tobirama took one last deep breath, schooling his features into neutral mask, and knocked.

“Tobirama. Come, sit.”

Tobirama felt himself tense up more with each step. He sat in a perfect seiza in front of his father and inclined his head.

“Father.”

“You requested to be moved to a night squad.” Butsuma looked at him with a frown. The pit in Tobirama's stomach deepened. “And to be the assigned to intel as well, correct?”

“Yes Father.”

“Explain.”

Tobirama felt his mind blank for a second, before he gathered himself and spoke:

“With my sensing, I would be of more use there. I would still monitor Uchiha patrols, as usual and assist with battles, but I on a daily basis my skills will be better utilized there.”

Tobirama kept his face neutral, but he felt anxiety settle in his gut. Staring at Butsuma’s expressionless face, he couldn't tell how well his arguments were working, if at all.

“And why intel too?”

“The last few months we have lost many spies and information runners. My involvement would serve to reduce further losses.”

Butsuma frowned. Tobirama repressed a shudder.

“I will approve of your reassignment to the night duty. I will not assign you to intel. You can leave.”

“Thank you Father.” Tobirama bowed and left the office.

As soon as he rounded the corner of the hallway, he felt the tension seep out of him, along with all his energy. Dealing with his father was always exhausting, but the talk still went better than he expected. Sure, he didn’t get access to intelligence gathering, which would have made slipping the information he obtains considerably easier, but he was sure that his request would be denied all together. He felt a bit of happiness rise in his chest at the thought that Father has recognized his abilities.

The feeling instantly evaporated, changed to guilt, when he saw Hashirama’s curled up form on the futon, back in their room. His brother was exhausted, another round of hellish training from Butsuma leaving him completely drained. The bruises from the initial beating his brother got after his refusal to fight the Uchiha kid back at the river faded quickly, but each training session ended with new ones. Butsuma never hit hard enough to permanently injure, he would never leave them in a state that would prevent them from performing well in a fight. Especially Hashirama, who was already stronger than some of the adults. That did not mean Butsuma didn’t punish him for such obvious disobedience.

Tobirama tried to push the uncomfortable feelings away and focus. Nothing he could do about that now. Now that both the Uchiha and Senju received information from the Hisawara girl, the difference in how the next clashes played out would depend on how much he and Madara will be able to influence the events. Tobirama’s mind was whirling with ideas on how to do that.

*

Madara stood in front of Tajima in a training field, his sharingan active, ready for the next lesson. They have been doing it everyday since his eyes awakened. While his father was displeased with Madara after the river confrontation, he quickly mellowed out seeing Madara’s quick progress.

That did not mean Madara did not get punished.

He was grounded until New Year’s festival, confined within the compound walls and supposed to learn. Now that his eyes were awakened, Elder Kuroe had him memorize poetry, although she insisted he did that without using his eyes first. It wasn’t the worst punishment, as far as Madara was concerned, since he genuinely enjoyed most of the poems he had to learn and discussing the ones he disliked was as much fun. Writing his own poems was a challenge, but a one he enjoyed quite a lot.

Neither the intense sharingan training or the poetry lessons really felt like a punishment.

What Madara did miss, were his visits with the hawks. He enjoyed taking care of them and having to leave them to others for weeks was torture.

What was even worse, was that he couldn't send or get any letters form Aya.

He wasn’t even upset because he wouldn't get any of her visions. He simply had so much he wanted to talk with her about. None of his cousins or siblings seemed to enjoy poetry quite as much as he did and he was itching to write about it to her, see if she read any of the things he did. He knew from their earlier conversations she enjoyed poetry, but nothing besides that. Did she like the same poems he did? What was her favorite author? Did she write any herself?

Then there was the topic of Hashirama. She was the only person he could really talk to about the whole thing without starting an argument.

*

“I feel so stupid, you know?” Aya said as she settled into the mediation pose Tobirama was showing her. He tilted his head in question. “About the whole chakra thing, I mean. I feel it being used in my visions all the time and I noticed the different feel between shinobi and civilians. There were visions of dying from chakra exhaustion too! I feel that I should have made the connection between that and how I felt after longer visions.”

“You had no frame of reference for that, nor were you focused on chakra specifically. It may seem obvious now, but without sensing your chakra draining in your sleep, I don’t think I would have made the connection either.”

“Yeah, I guess. I just wish I knew about it earlier.”

Tobirama looked closely at Aya, now that there was a lantern lit, taking in all the details. Her brown hair was slightly wavy, put away in a loose braid, few wisps framing her round face. The soft lines of her jaw were contrasted by down-turned lips and dark, thick eyebrows, making her neutral expression seem stern, despite the open curiosity and excitement he felt from her. She had what had to be the biggest eyes he had seen a person have, a unique pale purple shade, so unlike his own or even those in his clan.

She didn’t seem to know how to shield her emotions at all, every little thing was reflected in her chakra and her expressions, something Tobirama was not used to. Her chakra rarely differed from what her face showed, she was clear in her emotions in a way few people around Tobirama were. It was harder to read shinobi and he almost felt like he was invading something too private.

Still, he didn’t trust her enough, so he kept monitoring it.

He felt her chakra stir as she focused, flowing rather well for someone who never tried it before.

“Huh. Seems we can go to the next part straight away,” he said. She opened her eyes, her concentration breaking immediately.

“Really?”

“You sure you never accessed your chakra before?” He squinted at her in suspicion.

“No, well, not my own. I did feel it used in the visions, remember?”

“Hmm. That does make it easier. I wonder if you could learn ninjutsu this way too. Or taijutsu, for that matter.”

“So, what’s next?”

He looked back at her, startled from his musings. He looked around and reached for the vase, plucking one tiny leaf from the flowers there.

“Here. Try focusing chakra in one point to make it stick to your forehead. After you get that, add more pieces to hold up and try sticking them to different places on your body.”

As Aya started the exercise, he had the time to properly look around her room. Everything around him spoke of wealth. From the beautifully painted panel walls, through her intricately decorated furniture, to the high quality tatami mats they sat on; the place was a testament to the huge amount money the Hisawara possessed.

The Senju were not poor by any means, but war was a costly endeavor, and the utilitarian nature of shinobi made even the clan head’s house look cheap in comparison. Tobirama was not one to crave such luxuries, but even he had to admit to being slightly jealous of her bed. It was unbelievably soft, the material of the bedding pleasant to the touch. He bet her sleep clothes were incredibly nice as well, unlike his own scratchy shirts. He was used to sleeping in harsh conditions, but he saw no reason why he had to subject himself to that particular discomfort when in his own house.

He stayed for a bit, giving her a few tips here and there, but as the sky outside was starting to brighten he left her to practice on her own, carefully making his way back home.

*

Aya didn’t have another vision for a few days and spent her time between her usual self study and chakra control training. The novelty of the exercise had worn off, even after she switched to using flowers instead of leaves, but with her confinement to her room she had little better to do. She sat on her bed, hidden behind the half walls that separated the raised floor from the rest of the room. Her face and arms were dotted with flowers, the vase full of bare stems. She played around, making arrangements on her skin. That day she woke up early, as she always did nowadays, way before the sun rose in the sky. She knew it will be a while before Tobirama would reach her, so she started on her usual practice. She was halfway through arranging the flowers on her forehead, when Tobirama appearing next to her in the mirror startled her and she lost concentration briefly, all of them falling down her face. She managed to stop most of the flowers on her cheeks with chakra. They looked like weird blue freckles when she caught her reflection in the mirror.

Tobirama simply raised an eyebrow at her.

“Your spatial awareness is horrible. You also need to work on keeping your chakra flow in changing circumstances. Getting distracted like that gets you killed.” he said flatly.

“It’s good to see you too, Tobirama,” she said, turning to him. “Do all shinobi have such poor manners, or is it just you and Madara?”

He only sent an annoyed look at her cheeky smile.

“Using flowers in place of leaves is an interesting choice,” he said, counting all the tiny flowers that still dotted her face. “You’ve improved.”

“You think so?”

“Your progress is quite impressive considering it’s only been a few days.”

Aya felt her face heat up at the praise, smiling brightly. Tobirama twitched at the unfiltered feeling of joy he got from her chakra.

“So, you got any new things for me to learn?” she said, leaning on her hands to move her face closer to Tobirama, making him back away slightly.

“Your vision first.”

“Oh! Right, right, I got it all written down here.” She handed him a small scroll. “This is what I was planning to send to Madara, so if you want to take it let me make a copy first.”

“No need,” he said, already memorizing the note. A glimpse of a skirmish with the Uchiha somewhere on the border, he’ll need to look out for the patrol assignments in the next few days to figure out where exactly. Her skill in writing concise reports improved compared to the note Hashirama had too. He folded the note and handed it back.

“So? What now?” Aya asked, bouncing in place.

“Usually, the next step in chakra control is tree walking, then water walking. Try gathering chakra in your feet to stick them to the wall. You need to figure out the proper amount; too little you’ll fall off, too much and you’ll make a hole and fall off.”

“Oh. I don’t think I can do that then. If I make too much noise or leave holes somebody will notice, so that’s out.” She scrunched up her face in frustration. “So is water walking, now that I think about it. Ugh, this sucks!”

Tobirama frowned, raking his brain for an alternative. Something she could do quietly that was not too hard and let her practice chakra control further… of course! He looked around her room.

“Do you have a bowl? I could show you a simple chakra trick with some water.”

Aya got up, moving to the door.

“I know where to find one, I’ll be right back.”

*

Tobirama sat awkwardly when she left, his mind free to wander for a while. He thought to back to what she said, about not being able to practice tree walking inside. Was there a way he could solve that? He could try carrying her out to have her practice outside, but that was risky if anybody saw them or noticed she was gone. He’d have to ask her what the chances of that happening were later. Hopefully, the other chakra exercises won’t be too big of a step up from the leaf one, with all the advantage visions gave her. Still. Aya being able to leave the room on her own could be useful in some cases. Also, having to keep quiet all the time when inside could become a problem later and even when they were whispering it wasn't sure nobody would overhear them. He knew there were seals that could be used to silence any sound coming out of the room, so maybe he should look into that?

The bowl placed in front of him startled him out of his musings.

“So, what’s that trick do?” Aya asked, settling on the floor across from him.

“With chakra, you can filter out water and breathe underwater for a bit. It won’t work endlessly, since you get much less this way, but it can extend the time you can spend underwater significantly,” he explained. “You need to focus it in your nose and create a barrier first, the filtering part is really easy. Try sticking your nose in the water and stop it from going in while you breathe in, your chakra should let the air through if the barrier is thin enough.”

Aya looked at the water and leaned in, closing her eyes to focus her chakra. He watched as she stuck her face inside and immediately moved back, her chakra twisting in unease. He watched her closely, as she tried again. She held her face in for a bit longer, but her chakra was growing increasingly more unsettled, and Tobirama was about to pull her back when she straightened out, eyes wide and gasping for air.

“Aya? You alright?” He frowned at the reaction.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, just inhaled some water by accident, I wasn’t expecting the sensation, that’s all.” She wiped her face with her sleeve. “Can you show me anything else?”

“Is there a problem with this one?” He narrowed his eyes.

“No, no, not at all,” she quickly assured. “It’s just kid of dull doing one thing over and over again, you know? I thought I could try interchanging different things you know?” She laughed awkwardly, moving the wet strands of hair away from her face.

“I could show you the handsigns for the henge, I suppose.”

“Henge?

“It’s not really a chakra control exercise, but a minor illusion jutsu. You can overlay an illusion on yourself to change your looks. It’s relatively easy and it would be useful if you could to show me how exactly the people in your visions looked using it,” Tobirama explained. “Here, I’ll show you how your hands should go for each seal.”

*

The last day of the year was sent away with huge bonfires and a feast, the Uchiha gathered to celebrate. Madara and his brothers were walking back from the bow shooting competition, Togakushi proudly brandishing his first place prize bow.

The girls were playing hanetsuki, Myoko already had her face painted, two Xs for her two losses. Kurohime run over to the boys, happy smile painted in a bold stroke over her cheeks, Myoko’s victory marked in a more unconventional way.

“Nii-san, Nii-san! Come play with us!” she yelled out, tugging Madara's sleeve to steer him over to the courtyard they were playing in.

“No way! Hanetsuki’s for girls!” Izuna yelled back, grabbing Madara's other hand.

“Madara-Nii-san!” Kurohime whined. “Please! Please! Just one game!”

Madara’s already low resistance disappeared completely at the pleading look his younger sister gave him.

“Alright, bring it on Kuro.”

She gave him a smirk and threw him a paddle, taking up her position in front of him.

“Throw the balls for us, will you, Izu-kun?” Kurohime asked, pointing at the box filled with small hard balls. Izuna run up to it, suddenly excited for the game, now that his oldest brother was involved. Normally hanetsuki was played with only one ball, but for shinobi children using just one made things too easy and matches would drag on for ages, so they juggled multiple between themselves until somebody missed one.

The kept the exchange up until all 12 balls were in play, both siblings fully focused on the game. Myoko got up from her seat on the engawa, creeping on the edge of the field towards her brother. Izuna was about to say something to her but Togakushi slapped a hand over his mouth. Madara had his eyes peeled on the balls as they arched above them, then rushed forward, arm fling back and forth as he hit the balls back towards his sister one after another. He was just about to get to the last one when Myoko popped up behind him with a yell. Madara stumbled, the ball hitting the ground with a plop. He tuned on the spot, pointing a finger at his older sister with an angry face.

“Myoko! You distracted me!”

“A good shinobi doesn’t let themselves get surprised like that!” she said, sticking her tongue at him.

“Oh I’ll show you a good shinobi!” Madara yelled, breaking into a run, his pallet forgotten as he chased his sister. He have just rounded the corner, when Myoko fell back, landing on the ground with a pained yelp.

“Myoko-chan! You alright?” said a boy she apparently run into, outstretching his hand.

“Yasu-kun! You guys are back already?” Myoko gave him an excited look, letting him help her up.

Yasu was an older cousin, very distantly related, and many typed him as the most likely match for Myoko. Madara didn’t like the idea of his sister getting married, but if it was up to him and he had to choose, Yasu would be his first pick. He was a cheerful person and a skilled shinobi, and one of the few older boys that did not behave too officially around Madara, which he appreciated. There were worse people to have as brother-in-law.

It was customary for Uchiha kids to help out during the Hisawara festivals, keeping an eye out for small crime, and Yasu has set off earlier for his shift. Most of peacekeeping was done by adult shinobi, the few Hisawara that trained with the Uchiha, as the civilians tended to trust them more over full clan shinobi, but the kids went too, only in disguise. It made for an excellent practice, and if you were skilled enough, you were able to enjoy the festival too, to some degree. Madara was kind of excited for next year, when it would be his turn to go.

“You should refer Myoko-sama with more respect, Yasu-san,” said another boy, stepping from behind Yasu.

“It’s good to see you Hikkaku-san.” Madara said.

“Madara-sama, my apologies, I did not notice you.” Hikkaku said with a bow. “Please excuse our rude behavior.”

“Yeah, just got change with the late patrol group. You were playing Hanetsuki I see,” Yasu said looking at the ink stains on Myoko’s face.

“We mustn't bother them, Yasu-san. Let’s head back,” Hikkaku said.

“Madara-Nii-san!” Izuna yelled, catching up to them. “You dropped the ball so you have to let Kuro-Nee-san paint your face! You can’t leave like that!” He tried to move Madara by pulling on his arm.

“Myoko interfered, so it doesn’t count!” Madara said.

“It does! You have to Nii-san!” Izuna pouted, crossing his arms.

“Alright, alright, Kuro! Get the ink and let’s get this over with,” he grumbled, letting Izuna drag him back to the courtyard. He heard Yasu’s friendly laugh behind him. Hikkaku tried to convince Yasu to leave with him, but quickly gave up, excused himself and went alone.

Madara grimaced when the cold ink touched his face, Kurohime giggling as she circled his eye. He opened his eyes to her cheerful face and he couldn't help but smile back.

“So, You up for a game?” Yasu asked, already set up. “Heard you got your eyes, so how about we test them out?”

“Oh, you’re on!” Madara shot up, always eager for a challenge.

*

Tobirama spent the majority of the last day of the year half-focused on the festivities around him, as he was tasked by his father to keep an eye out with his sensing just in case. Fighting generally slowed down significantly during winter months, the clans more focused on managing the supplies and preparing for spring. Especially the weeks around the New Year’s celebrations were traditionally a time of an unspoken ceasefire, as nobody wished to begin the new year with bloodshed. So Tobirama did not expect even the Uchiha to try anything.

Still, orders were orders, so he diligently kept kneading chakra every so often to scan the area.

It was during one of those checks that he felt Touka’s sharp and focused chakra coming his way.

His older cousin was one of the few people Tobirama considered a friend, perhaps the only one beside his brothers to hold that title. He found it hard to connect and get close with the rest of people his age in the clan, but Touka was the rare exception; perhaps drawn to him in her own difficulty to fit in, as the rare kunoichi to make it out to battle, rather than stay protecting the compound. She was focused on her training and generally found little in common with the rest of the girls. Touka's harsh bluntness seemed to deter many of the boys, who wrote her off as rude and abrasive; they were slightly intimidated by it as well.

But Tobirama was thankful for it. With Touka there was no subtext to find, no subtle allusions or second meanings to catch. She did not hesitate to voice her thoughts; never minced her words. He always knew what to expect from her and that predictability was easy in the way his older brother's rapid mood-shifts weren't. As much as he loved Hashirama, trying to gauge what truly upset him and what was simply an over-dramatic reaction was exhausting, the constant changes and nuances confusing and tiring to follow.

But most importantly, Touka also always got what he meant to say, rather than what he said. It wasn’t that he wanted to be rude or unclear on purpose, but his words had a tendency to make people misunderstand his intentions.

Tobirama saw Touka round the corner of the house, and he internally cringed at the sight of her shoes tracking mud on the engawa.

“Tobirama, can you locate Kawarama for me?” she asked, sporting a rather serious expression. “The quicker the better.”

Tobirama was already combing through the signatures around him, looking for his brother when he asked:

“What did he do this time?”

“Nothing yet. Won’t do anything if I get to him in time,” Touka said, following after Tobirama, who was already up and walking to where he felt Kawarama was. Hashirama and Itama seemed to be there as well, a giddy excitement clear in his anija’s signature spelling trouble, and the slight anxiousness from Itama only confirmed that whatever his brothers were planning should be stopped.

“So what are they up to?” he asked, breaking into a run once they left the house.

“I heard him mention something about fireworks. _Handmade_ fireworks.”

Tobirama cringed. That did not sound good. He remembered Kawarama bragging about the recipe he learned on his last mission, but he also remembered clearly forbidding his brother from using that knowledge without permission and supervision.

They sped through the empty compound, most adults and kids still in the center enjoying the feast, and arrived at a clearing used for training.

Kawarama was crouched over something, Hashirama and Itama looking over his shoulders as Kawarama tried to strike a match.

Tobirama quickly made the handsigns for his suiton when he noticed the small flame appear. Hashirama’s head shot up when he heard the rush of water and he dove, covering the fireworks as the three boys got splashed.

“Run!” Kawarama yelled, grabbing the fireworks from Hashirama and booking it into the forest. The other two quickly followed, chased by Tobirama and a laughing Touka. After a few minutes, when it became clear they won’t be able to outrun Tobirama, Kawarama started to try lighting the fireworks with a bit of fire chakra, which earned him another water jutsu to the face. He managed to throw the gunpowder filled tubes to Hashirama at the last second, so the y didn’t get wet.

They ended up circling the entire compound in a mad rush, full of yelling and laughing from all participants, each of the three brothers getting multiple suiton jutsus thrown at them, before finally, Kawarama managed to set fire to the paper and then had to immediately jump back, the following explosion burning his eyebrows off. Tobirama was quick to extinguish any fire that lingered and turned around to look at his three sopping wet brothers. They all looked away under his angry gaze.

“What were you even thinking! I specifically told you not try that!” he yelled, pointing his gaze at Kawarama. Tobirama was shaking.

_Rushing towards the lone signature of his brother._

“You’re no fun, Tobirama-Anija,” Kawarama complained, wringing out his shirt.

_The hiss of the explosive tag activating._

“Fun? You call this fun?” Tobirama was livid, the joy of the chase disappearing completely. “You should be happy it only got your eyebrows!”

_The wave of heat as the trap he triggered set off._

Tobirama was heaving, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. Kawarama cringed, the full weight of the situation hitting him.

“I’m sorry Tobirama-Anija.”

Hashirama and Itama were wriggling on the spot awkwardly.

“If you are done with the scolding, then come here you guys!” Touka yelled from the top of a hill next to them, breaking the tense atmosphere.

They all joined her, looking in awe at the view, the slight brightening of the skyline announcing the prompt arrival of the sun.

First sunrise of the New Year was coming.

They settled on the grass, as Tobirama started extracting water from Kawarama’s clothes with a bit of chakra. Hashirama, still completely drenched, draped himself over Tobirama, which quickly replaced his soft expression with a frown of annoyance once again.

“If I get sick because of you, I swear I’m going to flood your garden Anija,” he threatened.

Hashirama jumped back as if burned.

Everyone else laughed at that, the rest of tension draining out of them, as they fell into fits of giggles.

They were all dry by the time the first rays of light hit the forest, the four brothers and Touka cuddled together, sending their wishes to the rising sun.

*

The palanquin swayed lightly as it made it’s way through the town. Aya ignored her mother’s disapproving stare, looking out the window at the colorful festival around them with wide eyes. She spent the entire day “resting” in a house near the temple, her mother using Aya’s lies about needing more sleep to cover up Tobirama’s night visits to argue that Aya’s illness was affecting her more and that she should not go out into the festival. She spent the entire day up till that point sitting on a windowsill and straining to see the kabuki play she could hear, but to no avail.

Now as she rode with her parents, back from their first visit to the shrine in the new year, she was buzzing with restless energy, intent on taking in all the colors and sounds around her.

Once home, her parents ushered her straight to bed, not even letting her stay to watch the first sunrise with them as she did in the years before. She stayed awake out of sheer stubbornness, looking out at the sunrise despite her exhaustion. The chill winter air was nipping at her skin and she wished Ichika was here to scold her. The older girl was still held under watch in the house and would leave soon, and Aya would not be even able to say proper goodbye.

Madara had not sent Shiori even once in the days after Tobirama found her, and she missed their little letters.

Her eyes widened when she saw a familiar shape over the trees, and she rushed to get her glove.

Shiori landed as gracefully as ever, leaning her head for pets. Aya gently stroked the bird before she took out the note.

Her eyes jumped through it, skipping and rereading parts in her excitement. The note was short, an explanation on why Madara couldn’t contact her and a promise to visit as soon as he could to talk in person.

Aya might have lost Ichika’s friendship last year, but she had started the new one with two friends.

She felt her body lighten with happiness and let herself fall asleep, feeling warm and content.

*

Madara fell asleep thinking about his birds, as he checked in on them before going to sleep, finally able to see how they were and send Aya a message. So perhaps it didn’t come as a surprise that he dreamed about a falcon, soaring high above the cliff he used to climb with Hashirama.

He woke up happy and rested, all of his siblings safe and sound around him.

*

_She was a boy, around 6 or 7, walking into a clearing. It was dark, the sun having not risen yet, but there was a faint line of brighter sky she could see above the buildings beyond the trees. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone standing near a creek, the gentle hum of the water giving the scene a peaceful aura. They reached the person and she finally looked up from her feet to view them properly. Her mind seemed to stop for a second as she took in the appearance of the stranger. The white hair and skin framed the familiar narrow read eyes, and she realized it must be Tobirama, adult and casually dressed, but it was him. She noted the three red stripes on his face with some fascination. He didn’t seem like the type to care about appearance. He spoke, his voice deeper and smoother than she expected to hear:_

“ _Kagami.” He looked over at her. “Came to ask again? You already know the answer.”_

“ _I can do it now!” she said, nervous tremor to her voice. She went to the creek and took a few wobbly steps on it’s surface before she fell in._

_Tobirama simply rose an unimpressed eyebrow at her and walked away._

_The vision shifted, but she still was the same person, only now seemingly alone in the clearing, chilled to the bone by the cold water and exhausted. The sun was setting and she looked at the wild koi trying to jump over the tiny waterfalls and go upstream._

“ _We’re the same, you and I, you know,” she said, as the fish fell back into the lover part and get swept away. “We just gotta keep trying!”_

She woke up, feeling more tired than she has been in a while.

Was that Konoha again?

She felt happiness bloom in her heart, seeing Tobirama as a part of it.

*

Tobirama woke up on the second day of the new year with vague memories of the dream he had. He remembered sitting at the bottom of a pond, as he usually did whenever he needed to center himself, and finding something buried in the sand. In his dream he swam upwards, along the stems of lotus flowers, and came to sit on the water surface among them. The item tuned out to be a folding fan, that when unfolded, had dragonflies painted on it.

Tobirama never paid much attention to the first dreams of the new year, finding it much too silly to believe they could hold any meaning, so he promptly forgot all about it and untangled himself from the pile of limbs that were his two brothers and got up to go about his day as usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Traditionally, Hanetsuki was played by girls on New Years as a wish for a good health for them, while boys received special arrows and bows, so I included those in this chapter, with a bit of a twist.  
> Watching the first sunrise and visiting the shrine are two other New Year traditions I found while researching.  
> First dream of the new year is also important, and I snuck in some vague foreshadowing in there. Can you guess what the next year will bring to each of them?  
> I didn't plan for this chapter to fall on actual New Year but life is funny like that sometimes.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Aya woke up to somebody roughly shaking her arm.

She opened her eyes to a white blur hovering above her and she blinked, swatting the hand away. When her mind caught up with what was happening, she quickly sat up, rubbing her shoulder, as she glared at Tobirama.

“Would it kill you to be a little gentler? I wasn’t even sleeping so deep. Ow.”

Tobirama moved back and looked away. He was used to his brothers, especially Hashirama, sleeping like logs and needing to shake them for a few minutes before they even reacted, so he might have used a bit too much force out of habit.

“Ugh, never mind that. What did you even wake me up for?” Aya asked, rubbing at her eyes. Tobirama felt her chakra stir, a tiny bit of fear bubbling up. He didn’t trust her yet and she plenty of reasons to distrust him, but he still felt a pang of hurt at her reaction.

“I won’t be able to come for the next few days,” he said.

“Why?” She put her arms down to look up at him. “Did something happen?”

“I will be accompanying my father to the capital on our yearly visit to the Daimyo, that is all,” he assured. “We are leaving in the morning, so I figured I should let you know.”

“Oh.”Relief surged through her chakra and she smiled. “I appreciate that.”

T here was warmth filling in his chest when she said that and he got up, uncertain on what to do with the sudden influx of feelings.  He  turn ed around, so she wouldn't notice the slight pink tint to his cheeks,  before  realizing she wouldn't  be able to anyway, since there was no light in the room.  He felt incredibly stupid.

“That’s all I had to say, so I’ll be going now.” He quickly went to the window and left  to escape the awkwardness he felt , not even saying goodbye.

S hinobi, Aya decided, had horrible manners.

*

Aya woke up hours later, and settled for her morning meditation, when the sound of her window opening startled her. _‘Did Tobirama forget_ _to tell me_ _something?’_ she wondered. _’_ _Did something change?’_ But when she opened her eyes, she wasn’t met with the now familiar white hair like she expected. Instead, she saw a dark shape making it’s way through a slightly open window.

“Madara!”

“Hey,” he said, looking up at her with a smile. “Haven’t seen you since last year.”

Aya groaned, hiding her face in her hands.

“Really? You disappear for so long and _that_ is the first thing you say?”

Madara's smile only got wider at pained expression.

“So? What happened?” she asked, peeking from behind her fingers. “You wrote that your father grounded you, but you didn’t explain why.”

“Ah, yeah, so, that,” he said, his smile falling. “You remember the… _friend_ I wrote to you about?”

He looked away, picking up the book that was laying on the windowsill.

“Hashirama, right?” she asked with a confused expression, remembering the tan man from her vision. The memory made her smile. “The village idea was really interesting.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Madara spat. “Since it’s not attainable anyway. He’s a Senju.”

Aya flinched at the sudden angry tone in his voice. Her brow furrowed.

“So? I mean I know the Uchiha are fighting with the Senju, but–”

“Were not just fighting with the Senju, Aya!” Madara turned on the spot to face her, snapping the book shut. “With any other clan this might be possible, but the Senju? No way. The rest of clan will never agree to that.”

“But you would.”

Madara looked to the side, avoiding her insistent gaze.

“It doesn't matter. It's not possible. It was only a stupid dream anyway,” he scoffed.

“But it's not impossible,” she said gently.

“Grow up Aya! That's not happening no matt–”

“I saw it! In a vision!” she said, standing up.

“What?”

“I had a vision of you and Hashirama, in a village, together! I recognized his name when I got your letter and–”

“Well that was before we were found out and we both know the future you see can be changed!”

“But I saw it again later! After you stopped writing! So it must be possible!” Her voice was strained when she spoke, her throat constricting. “And you said it yourself, the future can be changed, so maybe–”

“Look, can we not talk about it anymore?” Madara glared at her for a moment before his expression turned more sad. “I have enough arguing about this whole thing at home, I don't want to do that here too.”

Aya breathed out, bringing her own emotions back under control.

“Ok. Yeah, ok, we can do that.” She gave him a small smile.

They sat back down in an awkward silence.

“So, um, how are you feeling?” she asked. “I mean, you don't have to tell me, but I'm not going to judge or tell anyone anyway so…”

Madara looked away again, shifting uncomfortably in his spot.

“I'm angry. At him for not telling me. I'm upset that Izuna was spying on me and telling father. But I'm not angry at him, not anymore.” He paused, frowning at his own lap. “I guess I'm angry at myself. I was meeting with an enemy, I willingly gave him information I'm hiding form the clan, that’s betrayal. Plain and simple!”

“Like you hiding my ability.”

“I mean it’s different with you!”Madara assured quickly, turning to look at her. “You’re not an enemy and the information is reaching the clan in one way or another, and I’m going to tell father at some point in the future, so… yeah. It’s not the same.”

“Right.” Aya looked down at her lap, crumpling her sleeve between her fingers. “So, anything else happen when you were grounded?”

“Oh, right!” Madara brightened up instantly. “I unlocked my Sharingan!”

“You did? Can I see?” she asked, looking up with eagerness.

“Eh? You’d want to– sure. Here.”

Madara activated his Sharingan, the world sharpening around him. Aya leaned in, straining to see in the shade. The morning sun has just began lighting up the world, and the little lamp she normally used during the night was empty. She sat back with a pout.

“Ugh, I can’t see anything in this light,” she complained.

Madara cast a quick glance around.

“We could go to the window?”

He shifted his eyes back to normal and got up to settle himself on the window’s frame, so that she could look into his eyes without obscuring the light. Aya stepped onto the low windowsill, leaning on the frame for support.

“It really makes you see so much more, doesn’t it? Everything gets so detailed!” she gushed excitedly.

Madara’s eyes widened in surprise.

“How do you know that?”

“From my visions. Since I see through people’s eyes, you know?” She smiled at him. “First time someone activated their Sharingan during a vision I was so surprised! Everything got so clear!”

Aya waved her hands excitedly and Madara’s arm shot up to her side, hovering just above her clothes. He was using chakra to attach himself to the wall, ready to catch her if she slipped.

“I like it so much better than the other eye power I saw,” she continued. “I could see so far and all around me. Well, almost all around me, because I didn’t see the one who killed them at all. But it was so overwhelming! I like Sharingan visions more because it’s so much easier to remember all the details.”

“See all around you? That sounds like Byakugan,” Madara said. He felt a bit of pride in knowing Aya liked Sharingan more. “But you say there was a bit you couldn't see?”

“Yeah. Behind, there was this narrow spot and that’s how they got killed. Too amny enemies and one slipped through their defense there.”

“Byakugan has a weak spot!” Madara smiled. “That’s very important information, Aya! We don’t fight the Hyuuga often, but they are always a pain. But knowing there’s a weak spot…” He looked down at his lap, already figuring out strategies to use next time he encountered any, things that would let him prove to the rest of the clan that the blind spot was really there. “If you remember anything else you noticed about any kekkei genkai let me know, ok? I should have realized how much secret info you can get form your visions, besides who dies and how.”

“Yeah, yeah, enough about that!” Aya said, leaning in towards him. “I never got to see Sharingan from so close, so can we get back to that?”

When Madara looked back up, Aya was already in his face, her nose almost touching his. She was looking straight into his eyes, excitement obvious in her expression. She watched with wonder as his eyes shifted from deep back to vibrant red, the single tomoe in each eye spinning slowly.

Madara kept his eyes looking forward, despite how awkward the prolonged eye contact made him feel. He could now see all the details of her face, especially her eyes. He saw each individual dark eyelash, how they were longer on the outer ends of her lids, how the skin around her eyes crinkled with joy when she smiled in amazement. He was hypnotized by the way light danced in her purple iris, making it shine. With his sharingan active, all of this was now forever seared into his memory.

“So pretty.”

Aya’s whispered words shook him out of his trance. He felt heat rise up to his face.

“Ugh, thanks?”

It was Aya’s turn to blush. The awkward silence that fell between them was interrupted by a knock on the door. Aya startled and Madara shot forward to stabilize her, when she lost her balance on the narrow frame they were sitting on. Once he made sure she was safely back on the floor, he moved to his usual hiding spot, behind the half wall that separated her bed from the rest of the room. It wasn't the first time he had to do that.

Aya quickly composed herself and spoke up.

“Come in.”

Madara frowned at the way she said it, but the reason soon became apparent to him. He expected to hear the cheerful voice that Ichika always used when talking to Aya, but instead he heard a raspy voice of an older servant, one he hadn’t heard before. No one except Ichika ever came to the room as far as he knew and he wondered what has happened.

“I head voices from your room, miss,” the woman croaked. “Is everything alright?”

“Oh! I was just reading my writing out loud to practice! Um, everything’s fine, thank you.”

“I see. Excuse my interruption then.”

The old woman bowed and slowly walked out of the room. Madara waited until he could no longer hear the shuffling steps in the corridor before he left his hiding spot.

“Ichika’s not here?” he asked. “Did something happen?”

Aya bit her lip. Madara regretted asking the moment he saw tears appear in her eyes.

“She’s going to get married.” Aya said.

“Wait, that’s it?”

“No! No, it’s not just–” Aya choked back a sob, “–she tried to run away and, and I had a vision she would die if she did, and I–”

Aya was shaking, rubbing at her eyes to wipe the tears from her cheeks. Madara stood there awkwardly as she calmed down enough to continue speaking. He hated seeing her this upset, but he had no idea how to cheer her up.

“I waited for you to send Shiori but you never did!” Aya hung her head, voice going quiet. “Just this one day, she was there the day before and she came the morning after, but just this one day she didn’t.”

Madara felt his thought grind to a halt.

“Wait. That happened before I got grounded? Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

“Well, you told me to not send anything personal in letters and, and you never visited after that.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “Not until now.

So I tried to tell her to go another way but she wouldn’t listen so I, so I… I yelled and woke people up, and they stopped her from going and,” Aya sniffed, “and she hates me now. She thinks I stopped her from going just to spend few weeks more with her, and she’ll have to marry someone she doesn’t want because of that, but at least she’s alive, right?”

Aya looked up at him with a heartbroken expression. His hear sunk.

“That’s all that matters, right?” she choked out.

Madara didn’t know what to say. That day… that day he didn’t send the hawk because he was in a hurry to meet Hashirama. Because he decided to betray his clan even more and help save, as it turned out, Butsuma’s youngest son. He felt guilt pool in his stomach.

“I shouldn’t have gone to give Hashirama the note,” he said, voice flat. “It’s all because of that. I shouldn’t have saved an enemy, a Senju of all things.”

“Don’t say that! He’s just a child, same as your siblings!” She shot him an angry glare that quickly faded back to a sad expression as she looked away. “I’m glad you did that. I would hate for him to die. It’s the whole point of telling you about my visions in the first place. To save people. As many as possible.” She gave him a wobbly smile. “And I’m so grateful you’re helping me so much, you know?”

“Still. I should not have forgotten about that. I’m sorry,” Madara said. He couldn't stand seeing Aya like that, his guilt weighting heavy in his chest. “Well, it won’t happen again because of Hashirama, that’s for sure.”

“It’s fine. I just… I just wish I could do something with my visions myself for once, you know?” She fought to hold in another wave of tears. “Every time I try to warn people or change things myself it just makes things worse.”

“Aya…”

“Can you show me some exercises I could do?” she suddenly asked, looking up at him with a serious expression.

“Huh? Wha–” Madara jumped at the abrupt shift in her mood.

“I just, I’m so weak, compared even to civilian kids my age you know?” she explained. “I can’t do much about how my warnings fail, but maybe I could do at least train a bit?” she said, fiddling with the edge of her sleeve. “Jut in case? I mean, like, if I got attacked and had to run I wouldn’t even be able to get far! I sleep so much, and then I’m forced to sit in my room all day, and I don’t know any exercises I could do in here.” She clenched her fists in frustration. “Maybe, maybe it would help me fell less helpless, even just a bit.”

“Sure. I’ll show you some stuff,” he said. He sent her a cocky grin. “You’ll get so strong, that if I ever forget to contact you again you’ll kick my ass.”

Aya giggled and the sound sent a wave of relief through him. The exaggerated overconfident tone always made his siblings cheer up and Madara was happy to see it helped Aya too.

“Well, then you better watch out, because I won't hold back!” she joked back.

“Won’t have to because I won’t forget,” he said. “Now, let’s get you started with some stretches.”

*

Tobirama was painstakingly copying the faint seal lines from the wall of the clan meeting room, senses on high alert in case somebody saw him. He has spent the past few days searching the library for any information on silencing seals, but the only information he could find described how to adjust them for the size of the space silenced and the shape of the room, with no illustrations or diagrams of the actual seals needed.

Tobirama knew for sure of only two rooms in the compound that had the seals placed: his father’s office and the meeting hall. He immediately gave up on the idea of looking through Butsuma’s office when the man was out fighting, since he was sure his father would notice somebody was there in his absence. That left him only sneaking in to the meeting hall when it was not in use by anyone, a thing less common than he expected, since outside of official clan meetings, there were lessons taught there, and every once in a while the women would clean out the whole space. At night, Tobirama had no way of seeing the seals, so he only had few short moments each day where he could come in and slowly copy the entire set. It didn’t help that all of the seals were only visible when he was channeling chakra into them, so it took him a lot of time to find them all, all while keeping out his sensing to know if anybody was coming in.

He has spent more time continuously sensing throughout the past week than he did ever before and he slowly got used to the constant influx of information it provided. He was getting overwhelmed less and got a better grasp on his range while moving about, so it was a nice result to the otherwise boring and rather tiring endeavor.

So he has sensed Kawarama coming his way a long time before he saw him, so he didn’t even blink when his brother jumped out from behind the pillar. When Tobirama didn’t even bother to look up, Kawarama propped his chin on his shoulder, squinting at the notes Tobirama made.

“What are you doing, Tobirama-Anija?”

“Studying. You should do that to if you have time to bother me,” Tobirama said, making the last brush stroke to complete his copy.

“Yeah, yeah.” Kawarama rolled his eyes. “So, what are you studying that has you sneaking here when no one is looking?”

“Nothing important.” Tobirama answered, rolling up his notes and tucking the scroll into his shirt.

“Sure, because we both know you spend all your time on unimportant things,” Kawarama deadpanned. “So? What is it this time?”

“Silencing seals.”

“Eh? What do you need those for?” Kawarama asked, as they made their way out of the hall.

“No reason in particular. It’s a useful thing to know, that’s all.”

“I guess.” They walked for a bit in silence when Kawarama snickered. “Maybe you could block out father’s snoring!”

“First, I should rather figure out a way to mute Hashirama's.”

Kawarama burst out into laughter. When  he managed to  calm down , he asked:

“So, need a hand with that? I could help you copy more next time?”

“I already have all of them. But I could use the help in testing them out and seeing if I understand how all of this works.”

“And maybe making a Hashirama silencing ward?”

“Maybe.”

Tobirama allowed himself a slight smile at the sight of his brother’s excited dance. He spent the entire way back to their house listening to Kawarama cracking jokes.

*****

_Aya was_ _tiny,_ _naked and_ _surrounded_ _tightly_ _by something soft and warm_ _pressing on her from_ _all sides. Whatever space was left between her and the weird walls was filled with some liquid._ _She could feel herself breathing_ _it in_ _, but strangely, she also wasn’t suffocating._ _The squishy matter around her moved, pressing at her. It continued for a good while and at some point her head was pressed against some_ _dent in the surface around her,_ _and she felt herself being pushed more and more into a tight space. There was some muffled sound vibrating through her surroundings at irregular intervals._

_Finally, after what felt like an eternity of being squished and compressed, her head was pushed out_ _and she felt cold air reach her. Slowly, the rest of her body was pushed out of the warm cocoon, someone’s hands supporting her_ _thorough the process. She cried, her lungs feeling weird as breathed in the cold air. When she opened her eyes she saw blurry_ _gray shapes spinning and shifting, as the hands wrapped her up in some cloth. It was a welcome change, as she was still covered in the mysterious liquid and it made the air feel especially cold on her skin._ _She was lifted up and pressed against_ _what she assumed was the person's chest and her eyes finally focused enough to make out the shapes of_ _a_ _face_ _above her_ _. The person leaned in, placing a soft kiss to her temple._

_She could hear something she assumed to be_ _the person talking_ _, but she could not make out any words. The blurs around her started shifting again and stayed that was for a long while, before some loud sounds startled her and she began crying anew. She felt the jerked around as she was moved even quicker,_ _her eyes seeing only vague patches of light and dark, when_ _a piercing pain_ _hit her chest_ _._

The vision ended there and she sat up in bed confused, trying her best to figure out what has happened in the vision.

She froze, as suddenly all those weird sensations clicked into place in the mind, and she realized with a start, that she has just experienced being born. And died shortly after.

She scrambled to get her brushes, trying to think of any detail that might help Madara. She had almost no information to go off of, but she had to try anyway.

*****

Madara looked around through the shadows, as the lowering sun taking the light with it with each passing minute, Sharingan spinning. He was jumping through the trees, spiraling out from the Hisawara estate, looking for any sign of the woman, just in case she was giving birth outside and without help. She might be in any place in the combined territories of Uchiha, Hisawara and Senju and he wasn’t sure he’d find her at all, let alone quick enough to change anything. But Aya’s pleading letter and the thought of leaving an infant to die kept him moving.

He really wanted to help, but with each jump that did not bring him within sensing range of anybody, his doubts only rose. He cursed his inability to sense further, regretting not training that particular skill a lot. Most of the Uchiha relied on their eyes to notice and react to any enemy or to find their target, but Madara was now painfully aware of the limitations of that approach. Not that training would help him a lot anyway, since without a natural affinity for sensing, there was only so much one could do. Still, it irked him to no end.

Suddenly, his ears picked up a faint sound, a distant cry. He stopped and focused, trying to pinpoint the direction it was coming from. When he focused, he could feel a person some distance away form his spot. He had to back up a bit, but he found a small niche between the roots of one of the giant trees. He saw a huddled form of a woman, a kunoichi, he realized with a start, cradling a tiny crying bundle to her chest, gently shushing the baby. She had dirty, brown hair and a scar running from her left eyebrow all the way to her mouth, just barely missing the eye.

She tensed up when she finally noticed Madara approach, hand reaching back to her hip, shaky fingers trying to draw a kunai only to drop it. Madara simply raised an unimpressed eyebrow at her.

“What do you want,” the woman said, sounding thoroughly exhausted. Her arms wrapped tighter around the baby protectively.

“You need to get the kid to a safe place,” Madara said, keeping his distance. “I can help.”

She squinted at him in suspicion. Her eyes immediately looked down when she noticed his active Sharingan.

“I’m not giving my child to the Uchiha.”

“But you can’t keep it either, can you?.” Madara made a point of looking to the side, gazing out into the forest. “The people chasing you will be here soon, you know?” he said conversationally.

It was a blind guess, but he knew he hit bullseye when the woman paled, eyes flicking to the bundle in her arms and then all around. The baby was still crying, tiny arms grabbing at air uselessly.

“You won’t manage to escape or hide with a crying baby, not in your state. You’ll both die,” he stated. “I can hide the kid for a while, wait till they leave.”

“That, that won’t work. They won’t stop, even with this group gone.” She was shaking, tears rising up to her eyes. “I can’t keep the baby anyway. They didn’t know about my pregnancy…”

“Then I’ll take it,” he offered.

“I’m not giving my child to grow up to be a shinobi.” Her voice went quiet. “It’s a horrible fate.”

“Then I’ll take it to the Hisawara. They are allies, but civilian. The kid won’t have to fight.” ‘ _Unless_ _it would_ _grow_ _up_ _to have enough chakra to be sent for training’_ he thought, but he sincerely hoped that wouldn’t happen.

The woman closed her eyes and breathed in. When she opened her eyes, there was no trace of the earlier despair, only hard resolve showing in her gaze. She moved, extending her arms slowly and Madara gently took the baby from her arms.

“Please, keep my child safe.”

“I swear on my eyes,” Madara replied, face serious. “I will do all I can to ensure that.”

He turned around, ready to leave, before he stopped suddenly, looking over his shoulder.

“Have you chosen a name?”

The woman looked at him surprised and then smiled softly.

“Takara.”

He nodded, turning back.

“It’s a good name.”

*

Madara sneaked in through Aya’s window just as the sun was setting, a sleeping child in his arms. His eyes were blown wide and his heart was threatening to jump out of his chest. Aya rushed up from her spot when she noticed him.

“Aya!” Madara sounded panicked. “What do I do with a baby?”

“What?” She only now noticed the bundle he carried. “How should I know?”

“You’re a girl, you figure it out!” Madara hissed.

“And what does that have to do with anything!”

“I don’t know!”

Madara stood there eyes jumping around, looking incredibly out of his depth. Aya decided to spare him some nerves, gently taking out the bundle out of his arms. He looked at her with such relief on his face, that for a second she forgot about her own frazzled thoughts. The baby was sleeping peacefully, apparently unbothered by all the running and jumping Madara did to get to her room, not did it seem to stir at his yelling.

“I’m surprised it hadn’t woken up,” she said, looking down at the baby’s face.

“Well, duh, I put it to sleep with my Sharingan,” Madara explained.

“You used genjutsu an a _newborn?_ ” Aya looked up at him with an outraged glare.

“Well, I couldn’t bring it here if it was crying!” Madara waved his arms around, flustered. “It’s just a little one, women in clan use it if they need to hide the kids, so they don’t give them away with crying. Which is exactly what I’m doing!”

“It won’t do much if you yourself keep yelling,” Aya said in a whisper-shout.

He immediately closed his mouth, looking sheepish.

“What even happened out there?” she asked. “You didn’t kidnap the kid, did you?”

“No, of course not. The mother said she can’t keep it because of some people tracking her.” he said, much quieter. “Do you know of anybody here that could nurse the kid?”

“Um, let me think.” She bit her lip, recalling all the gossip she eavesdropped on recently. “Oh! I think the wife of one of our field workers gave birth about two weeks ago. But I don’t know where they live.”

“They can’t be that far from here,” Madara mused. “I’m sure if I look around I’ll be able to find them.”

“How?”

“Well, maybe they’re still up and I’ll see them walk around with their baby? Or, since the kid was born two weeks ago, a new name plate should be hanging in the house.” He shrugged, turning to leave. “Anyway, if we get the wrong house they’ll probably take the kid to them, so don’t worry.”

“Wait!” she grabbed his sleeve and he turned his head to look at her. “Should I write a letter? You know, in case the mother get things sorted and comes looking for the kid? Did she give you her name? How did she look like?”

“Well she had a scar on her face? From her left eyebrow down to her mouth. Brown hair, kinda dark. Didn’t introduce herself, but she named the kid Takara,” Madara said. She let go of his sleeve and he jumped out into the evening.

Shortly after she finished her letter, Madara returned and took both the bundle and the scroll, before hurrying out.

As he placed the baby in front of the house, he sent a quick wish for it to grow up healthy, before knocking on the door and hiding. He waited until a man stepped out and took the infant inside, before booking it out of there. It was getting really dark and he still had to get back home.

*

The next day, Aya got another visit from Tobirama.

“Hey,” he said, closing the window behind him. He sat down next to her, bringing out a scroll and string to unseal something from it immediately.

“Tobirama! Good to see you,” she greeted excitedly. She was a bit confused, since she didn’t have a vision that night, but was happy to see him nontheless. She didn’t know if he would consider them friends yet, but his visits have started getting longer and he seemed a little more relaxed. At least as far as he could be relaxed, she supposed.

“I’ve solved our noise problem,” he said, arranging the items before him.

Aya focused on what he was doing, and her brow scrunched up in confusion at the ink and brushes he brought.

“And the ink is going to help how?”

“Seals,” he said. “You know what those are, right?”

The wave of confusion in her chakra made him let out a sigh.

“Seals are patterns painted in with chakra conductive ink. They are like paths for the chakra, to guide it’s flow to get the desired effect,” he explained. “They not widely used because you need to be very precise for them to work and developing new ones can be incredibly dangerous. But they are very handy, since you usually only need to channel chakra into them to work, without worrying about molding it properly. They are great for long lasting effects too.”

“Like muffling sound from a room?”

“Exactly.”

He got up, measuring the walls and the window with a string. Aya watched in silence as he made notes and scribbled some correction with every new measurement. Finally, took the ink and a brush, setting to work on the windowsill.

“Aren’t the seals going to be visible?” she asked, coming up beside him.

“Once placed those seals become invisible, so don’t worry.”

“Oh. So how does that all work anyway?”

He looked up at her, brush frozen above the ink bottle.

“I can explain, but I doubt you’ll find it interesting.”

“Well, won’t hurt to try,” she said, smiling politely. “So?”

He got to work, explaining each step. Aya listened in fascination, as he described what the various elements did and why he was placing them in those exact places. Tobirama found himself enjoying this impromptu lesson, constantly surprised with the unfaltering attention and enthusiasm Aya had for his words. He expected her to grow bored with the topic once it became difficult to understand immediately, like his brothers often did when he talked to them about his ideas, but being confused about something only made her ask more questions and try to figure thing out. Placing the seals this way took hours, but Tobirama only felt happiness after sharing knowledge and discussing so much. His mind was brimming with ideas, many prompted by Aya’s inquiries. As the last seal faded into the wood, he spoke:

“Alright. Time to test it out.” he rolled out his wrist, tired after doing so many precise drawings. “Go out the door, see if you hear anything.”

Aya quietly stepped out of her room and held her breath, listening in to any sound from behind the door. After a few moments of silence, Tobirama peeked from behind it.

“And?”

“Not a sound,” she whispered excitedly.

“Good. Now let’s see if you can do it yourself.”

He stepped out of the room and she hurried inside, recalling his instructions on how to activate the seals. He forced her chakra into the invisible mark, and with a beating heart, spoke out loud.

“Hello.”

When nothing happened, she tried going louder.

“Hello! HELLO!”

When the door stayed closed, she giggled to herself. The seals really worked! She skipped to the door to open them up.

“All silent here,” Tobirama confirmed with a nod. She gave him a big smile in return.

They went back into the room, settling down near the window.

“So, how is your henge coming along?” he asked after they got comfortable in their spots.

She brought her hands forward, forming the hand signs. It was painful to watch, the movements too slow to be of any use in combat, but her forms were perfectly held, chakra moving precisely and efficiently. With a small puff, she turned in to his exact copy. He saw his own face grinning at him unnaturally and he shuddered.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he said, relieved when she turned back to herself. “The only thing that needs work is your hand signs forming speed, but I suppose it’s not a big issue in your case.”

She beamed at him, happiness filling her chakra.

“And the water breathing?” he asked. The smile stayed on her face, but her chakra betrayed her unease.

“Ah, it’s good, it’s good, I’m making progress,” she laughed nervously. “I still need to practice some more, you know?”

Tobirama frowned, but didn’t comment. As he suspected, something about the exercise made her uncomfortable.

He would need to think what to do about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter did not want to get written in the beginning, but once I got throught that it went quick.  
> I'm posting it after editing at 4am so if you notice any mistakes still there, do let me know!
> 
> Hanging up a plate with the newborn's name is part of a family celebration in Japan, where about a week after the kid is born the parents offcially announce the name to the closest family.
> 
> The vision in this chapter was probably the weirdest thing I have written. I don't think any future visions will even come close to this one.  
> I have googled so many baby facts for this.
> 
> On the topic of Aya's visions, they always make me unsure if my tags are enough, so if there are any you'd add, feel free to comment on that. I'm still new to this so I might not think of something.


End file.
